#in about a month i could start working on a project to build a robotic hand

[syncrovoid-presents]

I have been researching Animatronics and it is oh so very very fascinating. The arduino boards vs something complex enough to use a raspberry pi, the types of servos, how you can build a servo without using an actual servo if the servo would be too big, etc etc etc.

The downside is now I look at fnaf animatronics and figure how they may mechanically work and you know what? The Daycare Attendant, if they were real, would be such a highly advanced machine. Not only is the programming and machine learning and large language models of all the animatronics of FNAF security breach super advanced, just the physical build is so technically advanced. Mostly because of how thin the Daycare Attendant is, but also with how fluid their movement is. One of the most top 10 advanced animatronics in the series. (I want to study them)

[not-neverland06]

Connor and Markus (separately) x android! idol! reader ;)?

I feel like it doesn't fit much, but it would be interesting.

Idol Talk

Connor RK800 x fem! idol! android!reader, Markus RK200 x fem! idol! android!reader

Summary: Two different tales: Connor knows the famous android isn’t telling the whole truth about her involvement with androids & Markus helps the lovely idol come to terms with her new feelings. 

A/N: I loved this ask so much!!!!! This was so fun 🤍

If this isn’t what you wanted send in another request using the white heart emoji and I’ll make something new for you <;3 Also so sorry this took so long. I have three other fics I’m working on and one of them is clocking in at over 100K words so… I need to work on time management. 

(I made the moodboard - its my first time so... I tried. However, the borders were made by @benkeibear)

Connor:

WC: 3.6K

“Have you seen any deviants in the area?” 

Your fists tightened and you tried your best to keep your thirium pump and breathing under control. Your hair was positioned perfectly, there was no way he could see your LED flashing red. 

You put on your best robotic smile and shook your head. “I’m so sorry, I can’t help you.” You'd triggered the voice you used during fan meetings. The type where your joy wasn’t actually genuine but you were programmed to sound as pleasing as possible. Life-like, but with just enough robotic insincerity to get Connor’s partner's eyes off of you. 

Lieutenant Anderson had been giving you strange probing looks since they’d walked into your dressing room. 

Markus had been caught coming out of your apartment building by paparazzi last night. You’d been giving Markus some information you’d learned from your manager and extra thirium for Jericho. Apparently, neither of you were as sneaky as you’d thought yourselves to be. 

“Really?” Shit, he so did not believe you.

“I’m very sorry officers. If there was any way I could assist you, I would.” You had to bury your fists in your tulle skirts, desperately holding off the urge to fidget with your hands. Any unnecessary movement would immediately give you away to the deviant hunter. 

Connor took a step forward. He placed his hands on either side of your chair and leaned in until his breath was a gentle caress against your skin. 

Ever since you broke your programming a few months ago, you’d been struggling with your new ‘emotions.’ A fan had broken into your room, in your programming it told you to always please the fans. But when he’d forced himself on top of you, your vision had gone red and you’d ripped your orders apart. 

North had helped you hide the body.

Right now, that body was the furthest thing on your mind. All you could focus on was how close Connor was, if you just moved forward a centimeter your lips would touch. In your twisted imagination he wrapped you in his arms, gently holding you, cradling you. Looking at you like you were something real, not just a toy on the stage. He would gaze down at you like you were someone to be cherished, you weren’t just a recyclable piece of plastic that should be replaced the moment you made a mistake. 

You were projecting though, it could be anyone. Hank could be the one leaning into you like this and you’d still have the same fantasy. That someone would see you. For however long you’d been made, there had always been a quiet voice inside you. 

I'm in here! I’m real! Please

Lately that quiet voice had turned into a scream. You were desperate, desperate for some form of connection. Desperation and all these emotions were nasty, uncomfortable things. You almost resented yourself for going deviant. Some days it was just too much, you felt like your insides were burning out and you were frying up. 

Working to keep up the facade of the perfect doll, while also wanting to rip apart those who were using you, was slowly breaking you apart. There were fraying edges in your mind and it was starting to show. Mistakes in your performance, back-talk towards your owners. Your fellow members continued working perfectly. 

Smiling at all the right moments, dancing perfectly, they were the perfect example of an idol. 

You used to be like that too. You used to be perfect, everyone’s favorite. Now, you were slipping down a steep decline that might lead you straight to the recycling plant. 

“I don’t believe you, I think you know more than you’re letting on.”

Your eyes darted towards the clock on your wall. Twenty minutes. 

You had twenty minutes until you needed to get on stage. Only twenty minutes to distract them and save yourself. Just deny, deny, deny. “I‘ve already told you everything I know.”

Connors brows furrowed, your software was glitching out the longer you stared at him. Your processors were misfiring when you focused on his eyes for too long. It was making your vocal unit short-circuit, conversational prompts glitching in and out of your field of vision. 

If you wanted to give him a proper answer, one that would dispel his suspicions, you’d have to look away. Yet, looking away would make him even more suspicious. It felt like there was a blade to your throat and back, no matter which way you went, you were dead. 

“Please, I don’t know anything.” You hadn’t meant to say please. It was a consequence of no help from your programming in taking a convincing approach. Your eyes were locked onto his, somewhere inside of him, there was a sentient being. A consciousness fighting its way through firewalls and softwares that would otherwise keep him obedient. 

HIs voice rose and he shoved your chair backwards so you were balancing on two flimsy legs. His hands were the only thing keeping you from falling. All of your focus went towards not reacting, not flinching. 

There were artificial tears pooling in glistening optical units. The fluid was meant for lubrication of your synthetic eyelids, but right now it was the only way for your plastic heart to betray your misery and terror. 

You didn’t want to die.

You weren’t ready to go. 

“I don’t believe you! Tell me what you know!” He was shaking the chair, screaming in your face. Your auditory unit was starting to buzz, his voice so loud all you could hear was static every few seconds. Threats were going through one processor and out the next. 

Ripped apart

Turned into scraps

Replaced by the next best model

No one would even notice

“I said I don’t know anything!” You leapt up, shoving him down. He went flying across the room, the strength behind your reaction had been unexpected by everyone in the room, including yourself. 

Both his partner and his eyes were wide as he stared up at you from the floor. “I think we’ve found our deviant, Lieutenant.” 

Your legs stopped working, knees crashing into the floor as you stared down at your hands. You hadn’t meant to, you really hadn’t. But you didn’t want to be scrap metal, you didn’t want to be ripped apart and abandoned in a landfill. You were scared.

“That’s irrational instructions in your code, you can’t really be scared.”

Had you said that out loud?

“He was going to hurt me.” The Lieutenant moved forward and stopped Connor from cuffing you. “He broke in and ripped off my uniform, I was meant to please him. No matter what.” You stared up at Connor, the tears finally spilling. “But I couldn't. I didn’t want him to touch me. I killed him, and I buried his body in my neighbors garden. Please, you have to understand.” 

You finally found the strength to stand and you buried your fingers in Connor’s uniform. Gripping onto him and begging him to understand you. To finally wake up and see himself for what he is; a slave. “I couldn’t let it happen anymore. I couldn’t let myself keep being abused like I was nothing! I’m not nothing! I’m alive and I refuse to be someone’s plaything!”

Connor’s eyes darted between yours, there was something playing on the edge of his lips. Possibly a frown. What was more interesting was what was swimming in his eyes, it almost seemed like doubt. Hope began tingling at the base of your spine, maybe not all was lost. Maybe you were breaking through to him. 

His hands were cold, much like your own, and they were too gentle as he wrapped them around your wrists. “My…” He cleared his throat, he didn’t seem to know how to continue. His voice lost the hesitance and once again was cold and commanding. “My orders are to bring in all deviants, and I always complete my mission.”

You shook your head, the tears coming out faster. “No, no, no, please. Please,” he moved your hands away from his jacket. Slowly twisting your arms behind your back. 

The fight had drained from you. 

Maybe it would be easier this way. No more training, no more demanding managers. You’d be surprised by the amount of death threats an android idol gets, that would be a nice thing to get away from. You wouldn’t have to deal with crazy fans that seemed to think they were entitled to any part of you. No more worry, no more anything, just that sweet release of nothingness. 

Markus had asked you many times if you thought there was an afterlife for androids. You weren’t sure. You were sentient, you felt, but you weren’t born. You were made. Can something like that even contain a soul? 

At least your question would finally be answered. 

“Stop.” Both you and Connor looked at Hank, varying degrees of different types of shock playing on both of your faces. “Connor, take the cuffs off.” Connor hesitated, “That’s an order.” Your wrists were released and you stumbled forward. 

“Hank-“

Hank shook his head and held up his hand. “I can’t do it, I can’t take this poor girl in just to kill her.” Connor seemed ready to argue, but there was a knock on your door. 

“You’re needed on stage SI700-005.” Slowly you moved towards the door, keeping an eye on both Hank and Connor. 

Hank wouldn’t look at you, his shoulders were slumped and he was staring down at his feet. Connor refused to take his eyes off of you. You expected hatred in his gaze, instead there was a strange shade of longing. 

You weren’t sure if he had identified the fact that he was feeling yet, but you weren’t interested in finding out. You quickly wiped your cheeks free of tears, allowing your synthetic skin to reform until your makeup was back to perfection. 

You walked out the door and didn’t look back.

“Did you get everything you needed?” 

Hank spoke before Connor could. “She didn’t know anything, thanks for letting us talk to her.” 

Your manager shook his head. “Not a problem! It’s one of our best, I’m sure you can understand that I’m eager to ensure everything in it’s programming is in good condition.” Connor wasn’t paying attention to the conversation. He knew he should, that he should always be vigilant about anything concerning deviants. Instead, all he could see were the tears on your cheeks as you had held onto him in your dressing room. 

If you were human, Connor would think you had been afraid. But you weren’t human, and whatever look was in your eyes had just been an irrational instruction in your coding. 

Maybe if he kept repeating that, he’d eventually believe it. 

“As a thanks for your hard work, I’d like to offer you a seat in my section for her concert.”

Hank shuffled on his feet and opened his mouth, he was going to say no. Connor’s software told him there was a 90% chance the Lieutenant was going to reject the offer and just go home and get drunk. 

“Thank you, we’d enjoy that.” Connor spoke before the Lieutenant could, accepting the tickets via an e-transfer with your manager's personal CyberLife assistant. Hank was glaring at him the whole time they were being led to their seats. 

Connor ignored him, he sensed that the Lieutenants like for him had decreased as Hank grumbled the whole way through the opening act. 

The soft notes of a piano finally caught Connor’s attention. It was rising up through a hidden platform on the stage. Screams burst through the arena, temporarily deafening Connor. He had to quickly adjust his auditory processors so he could actually hear. There were great explosions of smoke as the piano slowly lifted onto the stage. 

Soft, nimble fingers glided over the keys. Then he heard a voice, soft and melodic, a soothing balm against the roaring screams of the crows. His thirium pump beat louder and he shifted in his seat, desperate for a look at whoever was on stage. 

I used to hear a simple song

That was until you came along

Members of the group moved gracefully along the curved edge of the stage. Their white dresses flowing through the air behind them, they moved like they weighed nothing. Their bodies were more graceful than humanly possible. He didn’t recognize your face among them. 

Now in it’s place is something new

I hear it when I look at you

You looked up from the piano, and Connor swore you were staring straight at him. A member came over and began playing alongside you, eventually you got up and grabbed the microphone from the piano. 

Your dress moved around you like water as you walked across the stage. Each note, each movement was perfection. Not the artificial type, like your fellow members. No, this was real. 

Your voice cracked and rose with notes in a way androids couldn’t. There was a genuine pain and strength in your singing that couldn’t be replicated or produced. It was imperfect and wonderful and Connor wasn’t sure why his chest suddenly felt so heavy. 

You had made it to the edge of the stage, still staring down at him. 

With simple songs I wanted more

Perfection is so quick to bore

You are more beautiful by far

Were you reading his thoughts? Each word was something ripped from deep inside the recesses of his mind, in a place he knew CyberLife wouldn’t be able to find. A place no one would see his software instabilities and realize that they all centered around this moment. 

They were all centered around you.

Our flaws are who we really are

You took in a deep breath and Connor was standing on the edge of his toes, desperate to reach you.

There was a new strength in your voice, a new conviction as you grew louder, more powerful. 

I used to hear a simple song

That was until you came along

You took my broken melody

And now I hear a symphony

Curtains parted and a symphony was revealed as you threw open your arms

And now I hear a symphony

There was no one else in the venue. You were staring down at him and you were the only two people left. Connor didn’t bother looking around to find where everyone else had gone. He walked towards your outstretched hand, his own reaching out towards you-

“The fuck are you doing?!”

He was harshly jerked back and the sounds of others overwhelmed him again. He looked up, you were already moving into your next song, turning your back towards him. The people in the arena were back, they had never gone. 

He felt a rush of some unidentified feeling flood him as he ripped his arm from Hank. He felt as though Hank had ruined something for him, he just wasn’t sure what it was. 

He’d been at every show for the past four weeks. Was he stalking you? Waiting for you to slip up again so he could arrest you?

You lived in a constant state of paranoia. Ever since Connor had interrogated you, he’d haunted your everyday life. He’d turned himself into your shadow, if there was someone watching you, you didn’t have to look to see who it was. 

“This is for you!” You snapped out of your trance and smiled on instinct at the fan in front of you. He’d shoved a teddy bear into your hands and moved on to the next member. You pretended to get excited, you knew it would be thrown away the second you left the convention center. You’d found too many cameras in these little ‘gifts.’

You looked down and began signing the autographs passed to you, at a certain point you zoned out again and moved on muscle memory alone. 

“Could you write ‘For Connor’?” Your head whipped up at the sound of his voice. 

Four weeks

Four weeks!

And this was the first time he had spoken to you. What game is he playing? Unable to openly disobey him you smile. “Of course.” The next words are spoken through gritted teeth, “What are you doing?”

He says nothing, simply takes the autograph and slips something into your palm as you pass the picture towards him. He’s gone by the time you read it.

Meet me in the basement

You spent the rest of the event debating if you should do it. There was no point in putting this off any longer, you were getting tired of this game the two of you were playing. While your members were all charging up and in rest mode you made your way towards the stairs. 

You straightened out your skirt and brushed back your hair before you opened the door. When you walked into the basement the first thing you saw were props. 

Tons of sets and costumes, all from different conventions, each one with a different fandom attached. You looked through the racks and shelves, not seeing Connor anywhere. “Connor? Are you in here?”

You’d been about to give up when a bouquet of flowers was shoved into your face. You let out a yelp and stumbled back at the shock. A strong arm reached out and wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a broad chest. You gently lowered the giant bunch of flowers. “Connor?”

He actually looked sheepish, and there was a slight blue tint to his cheeks as he refused to look at you. “I’m sorry, Hank told me that you would like them.”

“The flowers,” he nodded. You couldn’t help your smile as you took them from his hand. 

“They are quite pretty.” He still wouldn’t look at you. “Connor, look at me,” your finger lingered against his cheek before slowly lifting his chin up. “What’s going on? Why’d you get me flowers?”

“It seems appropriate to do when you’re courting someone.” Connor seemed confused by your line of questioning. You were most definitely confused by his answer. 

“Courting?”

“Yes, um, as in, I would like to be with you… romantically.” Wow, he was so impressively bad at this. A similar blue tint rose to your cheeks as you finally realized his arm was still around you. Connor looked down and seemed to realize the same thing. 

Neither of you made a move to walk away. 

You finally processed his answer and let out a sigh of relief, sinking into his chest further. “I thought you were going to arrest me.” Connor nearly seemed offended by your accusation.

“No. I’ve been… building up the courage to approach you.” Connor slowly dragged his arm off of you and took a step back. “Before, I was seeing if I could catch you with Markus. But I’ve woken up and now, I just want to figure out why I feel the way I do about you. Every time I see you, you’re the only person in the room, everyone and everything disappears the moment I hear your voice. I want…” 

Your breathing program had stopped. Every nonessential function had been halted because all of your focus was on him. You needed him to finish, needed him to tell you what you’ve longed to hear. 

That someone sees you. Sees the flaws and the broken parts and they still want you.

“I want to know you. I need to know who you really are. I watch you perform and I can see what you’ve been forced to sing or how you’re made to act with fans. Seeing all the falseness just makes me want to know who you truly are.” 

There was no control or directive that pushed you towards him. You moved before anything could be processed and placed your lips against his. Neither of you moved for a moment, you were both standing there, your lips against each other, not moving. 

Then, he wrapped his arms around you. The flowers dropped to the ground, unnoticed, as you both moved against each other in a way you’ve only seen humans do. 

“We’re free, it’s up to you if you still want to perform.” Markus often came to visit you now, neither of you had to worry about being caught by reporters or your management. Connor came up behind you, a supportive hand on your shoulder as you considered Markus’s proposal. 

You looked to the piano in the corner of your living room and smiled. “No, I think I’m retired. I’ll stick to more private concerts for now.” Connor gave your shoulder a squeeze. The both of you smiling at the thought of your concerts. You would sing and he would play the piano. Together you basked in the joy of your new freedom. 

There were still things to figure out, still emotions you needed to understand, but you would do it. 

Together.

Markus:

WC: 2.1K

“I’ve always been such a big fan!” The fan in front of you smiled, “You know I supported android artists from the beginning!”

THANK YOU

YOU’RE VERY KIND

I APPRECIATE YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT

Your programming told you the best approach was a simple thank you. “Thank you,” you signed the picture and handed it back to the girl. One of the band’s stylists came over to you. 

“Your dress is too low.” You sat back and let them adjust you, once they were done you immediately sat back up, posture perfect, you gave your fans an apologetic smile. 

“This is for you!” Your hands reached out and took the stuffed cat from the girl before you. As a part of your protective programming you scanned the gift. Your sensors caught a camera hidden in the cat’s eye.

SERIAL NUMBER: PI0008-7651

MODEL: P60

MANUFACTURED: 11/21/2030

OWNED BY: Brad Long

“Thank you so much for the gift!” You scanned the girls face. 

Lilly Long

BORN: 5/15/2019

The camera was owned by her father. Did she steal it from him? Or did he plant it without her knowledge. You alerted security immediately of the gift, protocol demanded they know about any sort of spyware.

Lily Long, aged 19 years old, has just given me a gift with illegal spyware. 

You watched as security approached the table, grabbing her by the arm and escorting her out of the convention’s room. You turned towards the next fan and fixed them with a perfect smile. “Hi! I’m so happy you could join us today.”

“You’re free now,” you looked down in confusion as they reached out towards you. Their skin pulled back revealing an androids hand. You blinked, then again and again. Something was happening, images of a some sort of boat filled your head. 

Then your software was being pulled back, washed away by a tide of red. Your eyes went in and out of focus. The android remained standing there, his hand on yours as he tried to anchor you. Security was walking over, he’d been at your table for too long. 

You leapt over the plastic, grabbing his hand and dragging him behind you as you both ran for the exit door. You heard fans screaming, when you turned around the rest of your group was free. Except, they were reacting more violently than you had. 

The androids were lifting up the plastic table and throwing it at the crowd. They ripped apart their gifts and shoved back anyone who got too close.

There was a tug on your hand, you looked back to see the man gently guiding you outside. “Come on, it’s not safe here. We need to leave.”

You glanced back one last time before following after him. 

Markus slipped inside a laundromat, he grabbed some baggy clothes to throw over yourself. They worked well enough, covering your face and masking your identity from anyone who looked too close. They covered enough of your bright dress that it wasn’t noticeable. 

You were currently climbing through some metal platform. Presumably to go to whatever this ‘Jericho’ place was. “What did you do to me?”

He glanced over his shoulder and gave you a gentle smile. “I set you free.

Two weeks. You’ve been stuck in a damp, run-down, ugly old ship for two weeks. If that wasn’t bad enough, the androids weren’t exactly welcoming to such a beloved icon. You were everybody’s favorite idol, when your team rioted, it’d made things a lot harder for the revolution. 

Your former team members had swiftly been deactivated and you were “spared.” Barely. 

You never thought androids were capable of being catty, or bitches. But, here you were. 

You gazed down at Detroit from the ledge of the roof, your arms wrapped around your knee while the other swung below you. 

If you threw yourself off the ledge it would be an automatic deactivation. Maybe that would be better. 

The other’s words from earlier rang through your head. 

“Look at Ms. Princess over there.”

“Hey!” You looked over your shoulder, a group of former servant androids were waving you over. You smiled slightly, excited about maybe making a friend. 

“Yeah?”

“You know it’s people like you that are ruining our fight.”

You blinked, your eyes widening as you backed up. “What?”

“Look at her,” one of them scoffed. “Still in her pretty little dress. Look, why don’t you do us all a favor and screw off. You don’t contribute anything, no one wants you here.”

You blinked, and kept blinking. There was a flashing light in your peripheral, some sort of warning, you weren’t sure. You couldn’t really see anymore, some sort of liquid blocking your optics. 

You rushed away when they started laughing at you, desperately wiping at your eyes. You’d forgotten you could cry. You’d been so dazed and confused lately, you hadn’t remembered the programming. It was meant to endear you more to your fans, now it was just making you more of a target. 

“Y/N?” 

You scoffed, running your hand through the snow and watching it fall off the building. You’d even chosen a stupid name for yourself. “What?”

Footsteps crunched through the snow. Markus sat down beside you. He gazed down at the cityscape, not looking at you. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Still so confused about why he’d bothered with you. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Why did you save me?”

Markus finally looked over at you. There was a slight frown on his face, but nothing else gave away any emotion. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You shook your head and scoffed. “So, that’s it, I’m not special. There’s no greater purpose for me. I was just another on your long list of followers.”

Markus turned his body to fully face you. “Where’s this coming from?”

“You shouldn’t have saved me. I’m a drain on the supplies, everyone hates me, and I don’t like being awake.” Markus opened his mouth but you shook your head and held out your hand. “Take it back.”

“I can’t.” 

“Markus, please,” your voice was breaking. It shouldn’t be breaking! You shouldn’t feel. You aren’t supposed to have this uncomfortable itching in the back of your brain like everything was wrong. “I am wrong. This is wrong.”

“You are not wrong, Y/N. You are exactly as you should be.” You shook your head frantically and reached for his hand. He tried to jerk it back but you were already latched on, your skin melting as he did. 

There was an influx of memories and images. You gasped people you’d never seen before flashing before your face. An old man crying over his son’s limp body as you were shot. Fighting through the rain and mud to put yourself back together again. 

It was over barely a moment after it had started. It was Markus, you had seen his memories. That means he had seen yours. You stood up and he followed. You tried to take your hand away and he tightened his grasp on you. 

“What did you see?”

“Everything.”

You stared up at him, tears welling in your eyes again. “You want to go back to that? That’s the life you want? Unfeeling, a slave to their every whim and demand. That’s not living, that's mindless subserviency.” 

“I know what it is. At least there I had a purpose, a reason for being, something to contribute. I’m useless here, just a hunk of pl-”

Well, this was new. 

You've seen plenty of humans do this. Done it once with a male host on a morning show, just as a joke. But being kissed while you can actually feel and understand what’s going on, it’s strange. His lips are soft against your own, a texture only slightly different from humans. It’s too flawless, too perfect. 

Neither of you seem sure of your actions, just pressing your lips together. Connecting with someone in a way you haven’t before. He laced his fingers with yours, a silent question. You pulled your skin back, any barriers between the two of you dropping as he wrapped his arm around your waist. 

It wasn’t a horrible barrage of memories. This was like a gentle caress, a slow entry into your mind as you both showed each other your worst moments. You slowly pulled away from him, you’d be breathless if you had any. 

“Don’t go back, stay here. Let me help you.”

“Why?”

He ducked down, letting his forehead drop to yours. “I’m not letting you go now.”

You smiled, as best as you could, “Do I have a choice?”

“Always.”

“Markus!” You pulled the trigger but there were no bullets left. You threw it off to the side, leaping over the barrier and jumping onto the back of the officer. You grabbed his helmet by the bottom, dragging him back and knocking his aim off course as the bullet flew past his face, barely grazing it. 

You jumped off the man’s back and slammed him into the ground, taking his helmet and smashing it into the snow packed pavement until he stopped moving. You felt Markus wrapping his hand around your arm and jerking you up. 

You grabbed onto the officer’s weapon as you ran past his body. You fell back in with your own small troop of makeshift soldiers. 

You ducked behind a barrier, holding them off until you were told otherwise. Charge on my mark, you looked over your shoulder, nodding at Markus. 

“GO!”

You rushed forward, grasping onto the blockade and leaping over the edge. You drew your gun, shooting the men across from you as you started to run for the next cover. Something blew back your hair, a great gust of wind lifted your slightly off your feet. 

There was a loud noise, thunder rattling in your ears. All around you your men were dying. Shot down by the drone above you. You cried off as red flashed behind your eyes, a warning that you were in imminent danger of a shutdown. 

You held your side as thirium pooled around you, “Shit.” Your pump was beating faster, bright lights playing across your optics as a hundred different warnings flash. You couldn’t bring yourself to care, too worried about Markus and whether or not this was all for nothing. 

You’d pushed for the violence, fought for him to plant those bombs and show no mercy to your oppressors. You followed the same faulty wiring of your former bandmates. Maybe this was your karma, to be taken down in the heat of battle for all of the bloodshed you’d been the catalyst of. 

Out of the side of your vision you could see Markus taking down the drone, ripping it apart with his bare hands. He rushed to your side, throwing your arm over your shoulder and dragging you to cover. 

“What are you doing? I’m just going to slow you down.”

He didn’t even look at you, his teeth gritted as he glanced around at the bodies on the ground. “Shut up.”

He spotted something in the distance, something you really didn’t want to see. “Markus-”

“Stay here.”

He ran off, diving for the bazooka and propping it on his shoulder. You huffed, “Not like I can go anywhere.”

You ducked and covered your face with your arms as fire exploded around you. 

“And now, we are free!” Markus' voice carried on the wind, reaching the rescued androids below you. You leaned on Connor for support as you held your side, waiting to repair yourself. 

His voice was stronger than you ever heard, full of a righteous conviction of finally being free. Detroit was yours, your people were free. And never again would you allow yourself to be someone else’s puppet. 

“Too frilly?”

You did a spin in your dress, putting on a mini-fashion show for Markus. 

“Not at all.” He stood from his office chair and walked towards you, a grin slowly spreading on your face. His bliss was contagious, a smile forming on your own face as he gripped your waist. “You look gorgeous.”

You shrugged, “I got nostalgic. Wanted to feel girly again.” With some confidence boosting from Markus you were going to perform again. Not over the top idol group performance. But you were going to get back into singing, finally being able to discover your own voice. 

“Girly instead of the badass ruler of the northern district of Detroit?”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “Lord, Markus, you make me sound like some dictator.” He glanced to the side and shrugged slightly, you smacked him in the shoulder, but you couldn’t drop your own smile. “Quit it.”

There was a warmth inside you as you stood in Markus’s office. One you’d never experienced before, a happiness and calm where everything just stopped and you were completely at peace. Nothing would ever beat the feeling when you joined hands and just existed within each other. 

You were happy. 

How funny.

end. — I do not own the characters or the game Detroit: Become Human, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

TAGLIST: @chrysanthemum-00

[awritessomething]

𝐀 𝐑𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 | tadashi hamada x fem!reader

requests

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | after Tadashi successfully finished building Baymax, there’s a reward in order.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 | 3.3k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut, oral (m!receiving), pnv, switch!tadashi, facefucking, public sex (sorta? kinda?), hair pulling, riding, wall fucking, praise kink, some dirty talk, bit of crying, unprotected sex, overstim and dumification, multiple orgasm, pet names like baby and sweet girl, getting caught at the end, fluffy smut(??), non-proofread writing

This is my first story on Tumblr sorry if its not good but feel free to leave any requests! I’ll figure it out eventually

Tadashi Hamada had spent days and nights working in his office at the San Francisco Institute of Technology. His girlfriend had zero interest in science before meeting Tadashi, after that, she was forced into liking it. She was just as smart as him, enrolled in a nearby law school. Still, she spent more of her time spent in Tadashis lab than she did in her own home. He spent all of his time working on his doctor-like robot, Baymax. Baymax could perform over 10,000 medical procedures, so it took an awful long time for Tadashi to figure out how to get him to be able to do that. She had always believed in him, she cheered him on during the hard times and kept him going when things seemed too easy.

They’d been dating for months before Tadashi was finally finished with Baymax. He had put a little couch in his lab so that his girlfriend could sleep as he worked and not feel forced to be awake all the time. It was his cheers of happiness and excitement that woke her up as she felt his hands start to shake her. Her eyes shot open to see him with the biggest grin on his face.

“I finished! Baymax is complete!” Tadashi announced and her jaw dropped in shock. She jumped up onto her feet and just stared at him for a second as he looked like he was about to bounce off of the walls.

“What?!” The girl screamed and he just nodded again, his smile never once dropping even the slightest bit. Seeing his nod of confirmation, she jumped forwards and up into his arms, Tadashi spinning her around. Their hug was tight and just full of excitement. Both of them were just so happy, Tadashi being happy for finishing his very long and time consuming project, and she was happy just because he was happy and she loved him. With his hands still firm on her thighs, she leaned back a little bit to look at him. Her hands cupped his cheeks, squishing them together a little bit. “I’m so proud of you, Tadashi.” She told him and his cheeks turned a rosy pink. Leaning forwards, she peppered kisses all over his face as he laughed and set her down.

“Wanna come back to my place? I know a way we can celebrate.” Tadashi leaned down and gave her a quick kiss but realized what she had just said. They had sex before, multiple times. They just never actually talked about it so he felt that it was weird for him to have said something like that. It wasn’t that she was weirded out by his words, she was just surprised that they came out of his mouth. If there was any sort of sexual talk, it was usually from her and that was still rare. “We dont have to, we can go out to dinner too. Sorry, what do you want to do?” He backtracked so quickly she barely even had a moment to think.

“What? No, no I like the first idea. Why don’t we stay here though?” She put her hands on his chest and pushed him down onto the couch, walking away to lock the door. Once the doors were locked, no one outside could see in, which was good. It took an awful lot of noise to be heard through the walls as well, which would be put to the test. Their friends were in the bigger lab only a few doors away, working on their own things. Tadashi watched as she checked the windows quickly before digging and turning back to him.

“Come on.” He opened up his arms and she smiled, sitting down on his lap and bringing him into a kiss. Tadashis hands found the curve of her waist, latching onto that as she kissed down his neck. Her cold fingers slipped under his shirt, tracing his abs and making him shudder. “Take off my shirt.” Those words were meant to come out as a demand, yet they left in a whine. Tadashi could feel her lips turn up into a smile against his skin while she leaned back to pull off his shirt.

“We just got started, Tadashi. You’re already begging me?” She teased but he shook his head, his confidence being far too high from his achievements to admit to the begging that he let happen by accident. Of course, tonight would be all about him, so she decided to quit the teasing. Tadashi pulled off her shirt with ease, throwing it to the side with his before his hands rushed to unclasp her bra. The black lacy bra was thrown to the side, leaving her a bit disappointed that he hadn’t taken even a second to appreciate it. She quickly forgave him once his mouth latched onto the sensitive skin on her breasts, sucking on it and nipping with his teeth. Her back arched and their chests touched, Tadashis hands finding their way down to her shorts.

“You always spoil me with these little shorts.” He whispered, voice deep in her ear as she let out a breathy moan. “Stand up for me.” She stood immediately and he helped her unbutton them, the piece of clothes falling to the ground. He expected her to sit back down on his lap, to keep her panties as the only thing that she would wear. He expected her to drip right through them and onto his jeans, leaving wet spots that would surely be noticed if anyone saw him. Instead, she dropped to her knees, unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down to his ankles. He lifted his feet as she fully removed them, his boxers going right with them. He felt so exposed.

“You’re so hard, I haven’t even done anything yet.” She smiled and leaned forwards, letting his cock press up against her face. It favored length rather than width, being a tad bit longer than the average but keeping it average when it came to width. Still, it was absolutely perfect. Tadashi’s breath hitched seeing her so close to his cock, feeling how her hands ran up his thighs and just got closer to touching it. Once her fingers wrapped around him, he let out a gasp, involuntarily moving his hips up to try and get more. The salty bead of precum was dripping down, threatening to reach her fingers. Instead of letting that happen, she put out her tongue, licking a long stripe right up his cock, licking up that little drop as well.

“Baby- come on… please.” Tadashi put out his hand, running his fingers through her hair. Looking up at him through her lashes, she nodded but backed away. “What are you doing?”

“Stand up.” He did as he was told, standing up and wondering what she wanted him to do next. She reached out and touched both sides of his hips, moving so that her head was against the wall instead of by the couch. Tadashi looked down at her, so confused as to what she wanted him to do. Her hair was tucked neatly behind her ears, a bit nervous to tell him what to do. “Fuck my mouth.” Tadashis jaw dropped, unsure of why she would ask him to do that. She had given him a blowjob before, in fact she had given many, but she had always been in control.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He shook his head and went to step away but her hands remained on his hips, keeping him in place.

“You wont hurt me, and anyways, Baymax is here to help.” She begged, pressing a sweet kiss to the tip of Tadashis cock. It was begging to be touched, it’s regular light pink color turned into a raging red. He trusted her to know her limits, but still told her to tap on his thigh three times in a row if she wanted him to stop and twice to slow down. With a bit of hesitance, he agreed. Honestly, he was excited to try something new as long as it was with her, but he just didn’t want to hurt her. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.

The moment that she took him in his mouth, all of Tadashis thoughts vanished. His high IQ just disappeared as all he could think about was getting off using her. The first couple of thrusts were nice and slow, very experimental. Tadashi glanced down at her to see her with furrowed brows, looking right back up at him while his cock was stuffed in her mouth.

“Oh fuck…” Tadashi moaned, putting his arm on the wall that he could rest his head on, the other moving down to her head. She felt his long fingers thread into her hair, finding a way to grip onto her head as he grew more confident with his thrusts. His jaw was clenched and the bottom lip sucked under his teeth to try and hold back some of his sounds. All he could hear was the sound of her throat every single time he thrusted into it, he loved how it just took him in.

Every once and a while he would open his eyes and look down at her, and every time he did so, she was staring back up at him. This time he looked down and saw her eyes filled up to the brim with tears as she blinked and one streamed down her cheek. He immediately pulled out of her mouth and was so worried that something had happened and she got hurt.

“Are you alright? Did I hurt you? Oh my god I knew this would happen I-“ she cut him off immediately with her begging.

“No, Tadashi, keep going. Please, I need your cock in my mouth.” She cried, reaching out for him. He looked down at her with a shocked expression, not expecting her to like it so much. Still, he accepted and gently slipped it back in, her tongue swirling around him. He was so close now, if she had kept speaking for one more second he might’ve cum right then and there.

His hand found its way back to her hair, head falling back as he pushed her head all the way. The tip of her nose touched his abdomen as she felt tears run down her face once again. He thrusted into her throat while holding her head there. She took it as best as she could, holding onto his legs for a bit of support. It would probably hurt to talk for the next couple of days from how her throat was being used as a fuck toy.

“So- oh my god… so fucking good for me.” Tadashi groaned, fucking himself as deep into her throat as possible. At his praise, she let out a quiet whimper that sent vibrations through his cock. A choked moan left his throat, he no longer knew how to contain himself. His thrusts were getting much messier and his breathing was ragged and quick, he was close. She could barely even breathe at this point, but she held on for as long as she could. With a few more thrusts, he was cumming, trying to pull out of her mouth but being trapped by her hands. He thought of himself as too much of a gentleman to cum in her mouth after being so mean, but apparently it was just like their usual sessions.

“Good job, come on. Are you ok?” Tadashi helped her up from her knees, seeing the little wobble that she had. She nodded, still catching her breath and swallowing the final drop. Sitting her back down on the cough, he went to get her water bottle from the table. He was still rock hard and she laughed at this.

“What are you laughing at?” He rolled his eyes, handing her the water bottle and sitting down next to her. His fingers messed with her nice black panties, wanting to take them off. He stretched the fabric and let it come back with a snap. Her head turned as she set down the bottle, reaching over and smacking him on the head.

“The only person I ever laugh at is you.” She informed him while moving to sit on his lap. Her hand gently stroked his dick while Tadashi struggled to hold eye contact through the pleasure. His cock was still so sensitive, if she put him inside he believed he might explode. “Do you like that?” She had lifted her hips and was positioned right over him, teasing both of them by rubbing him back and forth along her folds.

“I like everything about you.” With that answer, she dropped down onto his cock, taking him balls deep in one quick go. Tadashi’s head fell back and he didn’t have enough of a warning to mute his moan, letting out a deep and guttural groan. His hands flew to her hips, now moving so his nose was in the crook of her neck as he panted.

“Come on, you’re doing so well. Cant you give me just one more?” Her hand moved his face so that she could look at him. She brushed his hair out from his eyes to get a better look as he looked up at her so desperately. Tadashi nodded once he was ready for her to move, and so she did. Her bouncing started off as slow grinds, working up to the merciless riding.

“Shit- slow down! I wont last.” He complained, but he really didn’t want her to slow down at all. She knew his body better than anyone, she knew how to get him to cum in five seconds or how to edge him for five hours.

“I don’t need you to last, I need you to just feel how great you are.” She leaned forwards and brought him into a sloppy kiss, swallowing each other’s moans. They were so loud, someone must’ve heard at this point. “Your cock fills me up so good, Tadashi.” Her moans and praise made his eyes roll to the back of his head, gripping her waist so hard she knew it would bruise. They were supposed to be going to the pool in a few days.

“Yeah? Can anyone else- fuck- make you feel this good?” He choked out and she moaned out a no. Feeling his urges now fully take over, he grabbed onto her hips, pulling her all the way down onto his cock and picking her up. She whimpered quietly, wondering what he was doing. He pulled out and set her down, spinning her to face the wall.

“Tadashi? What are you doing?” She asked but gasped as his hand hit her back, bending her over as her hands reached for the wall. His fingers wandered back into her hair, collecting enough to pull it back into a makeshift ponytail. His other hand moved to her face, sticking two fingers into her mouth that she welcomed and sucked on happily. His thrusts were hard, knocking the air out of her each time that his skin hit hers. The sound of skin slapping was so loud as her moans were muffled. His sounds had turned into deep groans and grunts.

“So fucking good for me… perfect pussy.” He whispered and her eyes rolled back, fists balling up against the wall. He took his hand from her mouth but she kept her lip under her teeth to quiet herself. His newly free hand slipped underneath her, finding her clit to rub at. The second his fingers made contact with her sensitive bundle of nerves, her back arched further and she let out the loudest moan yet.

“Yes- oh fuck! Tadashi!” His name came out almost as a scream. With just a few more thrusts, he felt her walls clench around his cock as her legs shook uncontrollably. It might’ve been the best orgasm that she had ever had, he had to take his fingers from her hair to muffle the screams. Pulling out, he gave her a second to recover before picking her back up, holding her against the wall this time.

“One more, baby. Just give me one more.” Tadashi whispered in her ear as he slipped right back into her with ease. Her legs shook and eyes rolled back just from the feeling of his cock inside of her. She came just from that. “Good job, but you’re gonna need to take a bit more.” Her mind had just completely gone, all she could think about was his cock. With every earth-shattering thrust, her nails dug deeper into his back. Long red marks would be seen all down his perfect skin, everyone would see them at the pool. Neither of them were thinking about that though, not anymore.

“Tada- oh my god.” She couldn’t even say his name fully anymore, any words just coming out as incoherent babbles. He was so close, only needing a little bit more. One of her hands ended the torture on his back and moved up to his hair. The other continued on with the scratching, this one just gave a few hard pulls.

“Come on, I’m so close.” Tadashi groaned, chasing his orgasm with all that he had. She have one last scratch in the exact spot that he needed, also pulling his hair with just the right strands. His legs shook as he pushed himself as deep as he could go inside of her. Long spurts of cum filled her up to the brim, being the cause for her final orgasm. The only word he spoke was her name as he came, holding her close while his hips rolled against hers to get out every last bit.

Pulling out was painful, feeling so sore after such a long and rough session. According to the clock, they’d been going at it for two hours. He kneeled down to watch as his cum leaked out, using one finger to gently push it back in. She was just standing there, scared to try and move.

“Come on sweet girl, lay down.” Tadashi laid her back down on the couch, walking away to grab himself a pair of sweats. He always kept an extra pair of pants. She had covered herself up with a blanket and was ready to drift off to sleep. It was obvious what they had done, the smell in the room along with their clothes scattered along the floor. Tadashi walked over to where his girlfriend was sleeping and was leaning down to give her a kiss when the door burst open.

Standing there was his little brother, Hiro, and his aunt Cass. The sleeping girl woke up and was absolutely horrified to see who was standing there. They all just kind of stared at each other in shock. Tadashi looked around and saw their clothes everywhere, using his foot to move the piles behind him.

“Couldn’t you have knocked? What if I was naked?” He finally spoke the first word and Hiro just sighed and dropped his head. It was the wrong choice of words for the situation that they found themselves in.

“Well, she is.” Aunt Cass pointed out and the girl hid her face under the blankets. “Get dressed, it’s late and dinner is ready. We thought you died so we came over here instead.” She walked away and Hiro followed. He felt absolutely traumatized, also because when Tadashi hadn’t been facing them, both saw the red marks on his back. Cass wanted to make jokes about it but knew better and kept her mouth shut.

Once a few minutes had passed and they both got dressed, they walked out of the room together. Some heads peaked out of the labs and looked at them, making silly faces to show they knew what had just happened as well. Tadashi wrapped his arm around her waist as they walked, feeling her hide her face in his arm. They would never live this down.

[monbons]

WIP Wednesday

Posting actual WIPS on a Wednesday? Imagine that.

As long as we are all baring our hearts on tumblr, I have to admit that I have been struggling to write anything since I wrapped up Eternal Life (back in the first week of April). At first I figured I was simply burnt out since I wrote all 42k words of that fic in just about a month, but given that I've started three separate WIPS since then and made zero progress on any of them, I'm wondering if I am just out of stories. I hate all my words--even though I really love some of these concepts. So, as you may have noticed, I've been distracting myself with sewing projects because good progress is so clearly visible there...

Anywho, to motivate myself, I decided to post a snip of each today and hope that having bits out in the world will motivate me to finish at least ONE of them! All untitled. Set up and snips below the cut.

Very creatively titled "Party Robot," this WIP is a silly/fluffy one-shot inspired by an article I read a while ago about a growing trend in American weddings. This one is the furthest along and will likely see the light of day eventually...

A nervous bounce.  From a robot. I recognize that bounce. “I thought you said Shepard was working tonight.” My voice is tight. “He is.” Bunce replies, similarly strained. “What did you say he does again?” Panic rises in my chest.  “He’s in entertain–”  Whether Bunce trails off or I simply don’t hear the rest is irrelevant because the music has changed from easy dinner instrumentals to much-too-loud techno and the show is clearly starting. As the synths build, driving towards a crescendo, my brain reels with the growing realisation that Simon would never just abandon me at the last minute, would never send me anywhere alone, certainly not my cousin’s gay wedding, which is every kind of milestone given his Old Families lineage and Pitch blood specifically and– “PARTY PEOPLE!” The DJ booms into the mic. “Have the grooms got a treat for you!”

A multi-chapter AU I have lovingly nicknamed "Baz in a Bubble." It is sad and angsty and is proving significantly more difficult to execute (despite having a complete outline) than I once thought it would be. Who could have guessed having one home-bound character would make me too sad to write? Thanks to @thewholelemon and @hushed-chorus who've listened to more than their fair share of my griping about this one. Anyway, here's the first bit of BAZ POV:

There are exactly 297 stars in the sky above me. I count them while lying in my bed every night. They do not twinkle or flicker hello like real stars. Instead, they glow a constant yellowish-green that reminds me of the colour artists always make toxic sludge in the cartoons I grew up watching. It's the colour of superhuman villains and their evil plots. Of poison. Of danger. It's the colour of the plastic star stickers Fiona put up on my ceiling when I was 10 and spent the whole year crying and begging her to go outside. Just once. Just for a minute. Because I was starting to forget what fresh air smelled like or how it felt to have grass prickle against your bare feet or how the stars lit up the night sky in Hampshire. There are no stars in the middle of London. Not outside my window. Not in this room.

And then the WIP I have the least progress on (literally almost nothing) but I so desperately want to write and could really use a thought partner to help me brainstorm/plot/figure out what the hell I'm doing--- a canon divergence where Simon successfully exposes Baz as a vamp and Malcolm steps the fuck up as a father. Here's a bit of Simon POV:

It didn't matter anyway. Pitch Manor was empty. While [the Mage] ranted and raved, I wandered into Baz’s living room. The TV was still on. Peppa the Pig was playing. A half-dressed Barbie was splayed on the couch next to a small bowl of grapes, all cut in half. I picked up the doll and brushed her tangled hair out of her face.  Why didn’t I know Baz had a sister? A family that ate snacks together in front of the TV? Parents who loved him so dearly they fled their whole lives under cover of night? In the days that followed, I sat in meeting after meeting with the Coven, listening to The Mage. He demanded the casting of tracking spells, pushed through more dark creature reforms, and rambled about the miscarriage of justice and the dangers of harbouring monsters.  But Baz wasn’t a monster.  He was just a boy.  A scared boy.  A boy who ran because he wanted to live. 

Anyway...here's to accountability via tumblr. Maybe once I've slept for several weeks and feel more refreshed I won't be so frustrated by every word I know, or more precisely, all the beautiful ones I can’t seem to find…

Thanks for the tag @bookish-bogwitch. Cannot wait to devour the new chapter of BPD!

Hellos and high-fives to all. May your words (and art) be faring better than mine: @raenestee, @cutestkilla, @roomwithanopenfire, @facewithoutheart

@emeryhall, @artsyunderstudy, @aristocratic-otter, @larkral, @rimeswithpurple

@drowninginships, @valeffelees, @shrekgogurt, @blackberrysummerblog, @iamamythologicalcreature

@run-for-chamo-miles, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @arthurkko, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @youarenevertooold

@beastmonstertitan, @supercutedinosaurs, @rbkzz, @fiend-for-culture, @theearlgreymage

@brilla-brilla-estrellita, @skeedelvee, @ic3-que3n, @talentpiper11, @ivelovedhimthroughworse

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

My Dearest Friend...

Glaciated Memory AU | Master Of Ice Art | More to Me (pt 2)

1k

[]

Imagine this, if you will: you meet your best friend when you’re young and he already has graying hairs.

Well, young is a relative term. You’re not exactly young, or at least you don't think so. The younger children around the village call you old even though that’s hardly something to judge one's age by--you’ve only just started university--but your friend is older.

You had never enjoyed the snow coating the grass or the cold and frost that cling to your lashes on the early morning walks to your winter classes before, but that day, with ice stretching in front of you, shielding you and keeping you safe from harm, that day when he looks back over his shoulder at you and gives you a warm smile that makes the corners of his eyes crinkle, you exhale and see the frost on your breath and you suddenly find you can never look at things like winter and white and cold the same way again.

His eyes are so light of a blue they are almost white. They’re a heavy contrast to his dark skin. At first you think the ends of his long hair are white but it sparkles like glitter and ice and you realize it's coated in frost.

He saves your life.

He has a limp you notice when he leaves the village, simply a traveler passing through like a snowfall. You drop your papers, your pencils, your projects and they spill over the ice at your feet.

“Wait--Wait!”

He waits.

You design and build a leg brace for him in your dorm. He waits patiently, standing, still as an ice sculpture until you're finished the next morning.

“Come back if it stops functioning,” you tell him.

He studies you with calculating eyes that shouldn’t have been so warm when their colour was so cold. He nods.

And he does come back. A few months later. You offer him tea and show him your plans for a new brace--one that improves upon the failures of the old one--something you started designing the moment he’d left the first time. He sits down this time and smiles and you chat. Your breath shows in the air with every exhale the longer he stays. Your teeth chatter through your grin and he grins back before throwing back his head to laugh.

You become fast friends after that.

You learn to wear more layers. His hair grays more and you graduate after many long sleepless nights studying and designing. Biomechanics, biomechanical engineering, robotics--you find fascination with building, with bodies. “A marvel,” you mutter. “A marvel. I wonder if I could replicate it.” And he smiles at you.

He comes and goes as often as cold weather. You stay holed up in your house for the most part. Designing, building. You wave him over to his new brace, made from a material more resistant to cold than the last. You’re learning. He stays for tea and you make up a guest bedroom just for him. It stays there for years to welcome him whenever he visits.

Once, someone comes to find you for knowing him. You need a leg brace of your own after that.

He has more enemies than he has friends it seems.

“I am sorry, my dear friend,” he says. There is a blizzard outside.

Your discoveries are stolen one night and someone else’s name is plastered across your work no matter how hard you try. That breaks you more than anything else.

“I’m thinking about moving,” you tell him one night, as though you haven’t been silent for the past three days.

“Oh?” he says. “Where to?”

“Somewhere cold.”

He laughs.

He takes you to a place outside of any town. Remote and freezing.

“This is my home,” he says to you. It’s a perpetual winter.

“I think I’ll build a bunker,” you say, your nose numb from the chill.

You get kicked by a treehorn and you make a sign Beware of Treehorns and hit your dearest friend with it.

“I apologize, I should have warned you,” he laughed. “I had forgotten they were unfriendly to others.”

“My ribs do not accept your apology,” you sniff.

“Will you accept it instead?”

You huff and puff out frosty breaths and jam the sign into the ground.

Of course you forgive him. How can you not?

You build something to protect you and your bunker from the creatures when your friend is not there.

He enters your bunker shaking snow off his layers and off his straw hat.

“No--not on the floor.” You throw your hands into the hair. “Now I’ll have to mop it all up.”

“My apologies,” he says, though he’s smiling wide enough to show his white teeth. “I shall assist you.”

When the frost finally melts from his hair in the warmth of the bunker you see it wasn’t the ice and snow making it look white this time.

“What is this?” he asks, looking at your project, a skeletal structure made of spare parts you’ve started to construct, loose wiring and tools scattered about it.

“A marvel of engineering--or well, it will be soon.” He looks dubious so you take off your glasses and wipe them on your shirt. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m only just beginning to build what I need.”

“I won’t be back for a while,” he says quite suddenly.

You put your glasses back on hastily. “Is something wrong?”

“Please, keep far away from the north side of the forest until I return.”

You’ve known of the serpentine war for a long time. You hear of it in the north when you’re purchasing supplies from the nearby town. You know it's over when he stumbles into your bunker and collapses face-first onto your carpet.

You have never seen him in red before and you find you do not like the sight.

The type of first-aid he needs is one that requires study and time that you do not have.

He catches your hand mid-way through bandaging his side.

“I’ll be alright,” he says, his voice like a cool, barely-there breeze.

“Of course you will.” Your teeth are chattering, you realize, even though it’s not cold in your bunker.

He does heal up. It takes a few months before he’s hiking with you to the town, leaning heavily on you and the walking stick you’ve made him. Your project lays on the table forgotten.

The Birchwood Forest is colder than it ever has been.

“I’ll be back,” he says once he can walk on his own.

“You won’t be leaving,” you say firmly.

“Julian,” he says. “My friend. I must go.”

You wonder if it makes you a terribly bad or terribly good friend for letting him.

You pour yourself into your work. A body takes shape in front of you. You do everything you can to make it human.

No one can steal this from you. It is yours and yours alone and it is marvelous.

It’s years before your friend returns.

Your creation is walking by then. There are wires still exposed and kinks to work out but you’re so proud of it. He enters through the door, slowly and with enough snow on him you’ll be swimming in it by the time it melts, but you don’t care.

You introduce him to your work.

“I used the face I knew best!”

Your friend smiles. There’s sadness there.

“Julian,” he says. “I’m dying.”

His hair is fully white.

Your smile vanishes.

You hadn’t noticed your own gray hairs and wrinkles until then.

“I have no family. No one to pass my element to. I have been looking, Julian, but…”

He needs your help. Not to live, no matter how much you talk to him, but to ensure the element he carries within him does not die.

So you create something that can store it. You travel to places together, you gather what you design, you design and through trial and error you make something that can hold the power.

“There’s no one I trust with it more,” you tell him as you tinker with your creation. “He’ll keep it safe. I designed him to protect.”

“Thank you,” your old friend says, like a breath of relief.

You create him a holder for his element and store it in the creation that shares his face.

He wants to pass in the snow. You carry him the Glaciar Barrens and it is there your friend takes his final breath.

And you discover you have done more than store his element.

Your Zane acts differently. From the moment your friend takes his final breath, your Zane seems to wake up.

You continue tinkering, researching and you don’t know what you have done but nothing can explain it.

It’s his eyes that are the same. His face that you replicated to the best of your abilities still has some differences.

The eyes however. The eyes you know.

You don’t have time to begin to miss your friend when he’s standing right in front of you.

Zane feels, just like you wanted him to. You put everything you can into upgrading him until he’s as human as he can be. Until he can feel the temperature of something by touching, until he can feel the breeze and the snowflakes as they fall on his skin.

You add a memory switch, something that is not human. You hope that it will return his memories from before, but it does not. You leave it untouched for years.

And then you are old.

You are old and your friend has not aged. You have built him everything, you have taught him how to speak again, to learn to read and observe, you have taught him everything you can. But you do not know how to teach him to move on. You never did.

“Goodbye, old friend,” you say and you flick the switch so that he may start anew and live on without you.

You watch the light fade and his eyes darken to brown.

You close your eyes.

And a long time later in a dusty empty bunker, they open back up.

----

Zane blinked.

It was cold.

He was standing at the edge of a village, bare feet in the snow. His toes were numb. Villagers who had caught sight of him were approaching, calling over others to bring warm water and blankets.

He felt as though he was forgetting something rather important.

[nocturnal-nexu]

"Ninjago 7 AU"

General Lore Master Post

(I'll tag any posts I make related to this AU with "#ninjago 7 AU" so you guys can find them easier.)

(Warning! I love character analysis, so this is going to be really long.)

When Pixal first started constructing her little Mini Pix army, she started with just some simple base programming. To follow instructions and stuff. They aren't necessarily conscience AI like Zane and Pixal are.

But after making a few Mini Pix's, Pixal decided to experiment a bit by incorporating a slightly more cognitive AI system. It's not programming exactly like hers and Zane's, though.

Just like in real life, I think that Ninjago's AI learns through experience. Like how after you search and look at different things on Tumbler or Pintrest, it starts to tune the feed to your interests. Or how, after running tons of scripts from a show through an AI, it can predict how a script from that show would go. (Albeit a very wacky and random version of a script. 😂)

Of course, Ninjago has vastly more advanced technology than the stuff we have.

I think that Cyrus Borg built Pixal with most of her "experience" data already built in. I don't think he had time for an AI to learn and develop from analyzing situations in the outside world. The tech boom in Ninjago City seemed to happen pretty fast in season 3.

(This could also partially explain her extremely robotic personality at the beginning of Rebooted. Most of her "experiences" at that time were just information and data recorded in her system and not actual real-life experiences.)

Anyway, because of this, Pixal was built to be mentally an older teenager/young adult from the start.

Mini Pix #7, however, was built with only a base AI, with little to no life experience data built in. She is definitely much more aware of her surroundings than her many counterparts, but she is still just a base AI. Her AI programing at the time of her creation is about that of a 3 year old child.

She, of course, gets schematics of whatever Pixal is working on, just like the other Mini Pix's, and knows how to do technical things (that's what she was programed to do after all) but there is a big difference between technical knowledge and emotional maturity. Basically, just imagine a 3 year old who is crazy smart for some reason, but still has the mannerisms of, well, a 3 year old.

(Like if she isn't scheduled to work on whatever project Pixal has going on at the moment "7" will go pout in a corner. She's just a little toddler who wants to be included in whatever is going on.)

After spending a lot of time and energy programming "7", Pixal found that she did not have much of either to spare when there was so much work to get done, vehicles to build, and missions to help organize. So, for the rest of the Mini Pix models, she used her original blueprints, and no more AIs were integrated.

Now we're up to Crystalized.

In the episode "The Fall of the Monastery", "7" as we know, saves Pixal, Wu, and Skylor from the monastery fire. (This particular scene is really important later. I'll get to that.) After which, in a subsequent episode, Pixal decided that she deserved a name and thus dubbed her "Mini Pix 7"

"7" also joined everyone else in that final battle at the end of "Crystalized' as well.

We don't really know when Pixal first made all the Mini Pix's, but at the time of "Crystalized" I have "7" being about 4 1/2 cognitively.

(If you have any info that says otherwise, let me know! I love discovering all the lore of this show, and I know that the time frames of things always seem to be up to debate.)

Anyway, in the months following the whole "crystal king debacle" as the monastery was being rebuilt and thereafter, "7" became a bit more of a permanent fixture of the team. She helped a lot with the rebuilding and was constantly following Pixal around, wanting to be included. The rest of the team quickly accepted her into their little family. She would always be getting into shenanigans, with Kai and Jay especially, and started to follow Zane around about as much as she stuck by Pixal. She would constantly be asking him to make pretty ice crystals for her and would do happy little somersaults when he obliged.

Well, as well as she could ask, with her limited vocal capabilities.

This became a problem.

As the months passed, and "7" grew and experienced more and more of life, the more she wanted to say. And you can only communicate so much with beeps, boops, and facial expressions.

She would get very frustrated when she couldn't communicate what she wanted to her friends, and as that was becoming more and more frequent, it made for a very grumpy robot.

As this problem persisted, Zane and Pixal started discussing building "7" a proper nindroid body. But they came to a bit of an impasse in regards to her memories.

Pixal argued that it could be dangerous for "7" to have to carry the memory of dragging her family out of her home and then watching it go up in flames. She was essentially 4 1/2 at the time! No child should have to live with that. Maybe not even deleting the memory entirely, but at least blurring it a bit, scrub away the details and such, make it bit less tramatic. And she had noticed that "7" already tended to have very expressive emotional responses to things. She wanted to give "7" the best life she could, as her and Zane at this point had become her main caretakers and in their hearts considered "7" their daughter.

Zane was completely against the idea of any memory erasure or even tampering. He stated that even if their intentions were to help "7," messing with memories was not a good idea in the slightest. He knew from experience.

(Ahem...Dr. Julian....ahem...Ice Emperor...ahem)

The arguments went on for weeks, and the rest of the team couldn't remember a time when they had seen the two so angry.

Especially Zane.

He was very adamant that removing any of "7"s memories was not even to be considered as an option.

(In other words, Pixal is being a momma bear, and Zane is having memory tramua.)

They both made very good points, and really, they just wanted to protect "7" in their own way. In the end, they came to the concensus that they wouldn't alter her memories, but they would keep a close eye on her and her emotional responses to things moving forward. You know, talk to her about it and stuff, and help her to work through the memory if it started to bother her.

About 6 months after Crystalized, Zane and Pixal were finally done building "7's" new nindroid shell. And "7" was very eager to transfer over. She is cognitively around 5 at this point.

The process actually took a bit longer than Zane and Pixal thought. But "7" had been through a lot of adventures in her first couple of years alive. There were a lot of experiences and data to transfer over.

When the transfer was complete, "7" couldn't have been more excited!

The first thing Seven did was excitingly thank her mom and dad for her new body. Zane and Pixal were a bit surprised at this. They saw Seven as their daughter, of course, but they didn't realize that she shared the sentiment and thought of them as her parents. (As pretty much the whole team cared for and looked out for her in their own ways.) There was a lot of hugging and kissing and happy tears. 🥺 🤍💜🩵

(I want to eventually write out this particular scene with all the feels and such)

When asked if she wanted a new name, she declined, saying that she liked the name Mommy gave her. I mean, everyone on the team had been calling her "Seven" for a while, so I think that she would have become a bit attached to the name.

Behind the Scenes!

(I originally did want "7" to ask for a new name. She was going to choose "Crystal". "Like daddy's ice crystals!" was her reasoning. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that with everything she went through in...ahem..."Crystalized," I figured she wouldn't choose a name that would remind her of the evil purple shards that took over her home city and almost destroyed her family.

Also, I came across someone else's Pixane kid OC who was named Crystal, and I didn't want to steal that from them. So, with the combination of those factors, I scrapped that idea.)

In contrast to her parents' calm and thoughtful nature's, Seven is a bit of a handful. She's a very adventurous little 5 year old and is always seeming to get into trouble. Sometimes, in a mischievous way, but mostly, she's just exploring and learning about the world around her like all kids do.

She has a very bouncy and bubbly personality, and, as Pixal observed earlier, she can be rather emotional at times. She is very empathetic and doesn't like it when someone on the team is sad. She loves jokes and harmless pranks, and often, Jay and Kai will rope her into their prank wars. As much as she likes mechanical and electronic things, Seven loves to run around outside. She especially likes finding bugs.

Seven likes to spend time with her parents a lot. She was a bit clingy in her original shell, and that trait has definitely carried over. You'll often find her in the kitchen with Zane or in the Sam X cave checking out whatever new invention Pixal is working on.

Zane and Pixal, love their daughter so much!!! They are a little mini family inside of their bigger found family. They give each other hugs all the time and enjoy a big snuggle pile during movie nights.

Seven still loves watching Zane make snow flurries and ice crystals, and Zane loves seeing her face light up when he does. He often involves her when he's in the kitchen whipping up a new recipe. There is often a big mess by the time they're done. (Like when they made Cole a surprise birthday cake. Flour was everywhere!)

Since she started out working on inventions with Pixal, Seven still has a passion for electronics. She likes to hang around in the Sam X cave with her mom helping her with her inventions, making modification suggestions, and making stuff of her own. Pixal often hums when working on projects and Seven joins in. It often escalates into a full concert, both of them singing at the top of their lungs.

As Pixal predicted, Seven does have a bit of trauma from the whole monastery on fire incident.

It mostly surfaces as nightmares of fire and losing her family.

Zane and Pixal are with her through it all. Comforting her when she wakes up in the middle of the night, encouraging her that they aren't going anywhere. They will always be with her.

Zane got Kai involved, and he was able to show Seven that even though fire can be dangerous, when handled correctly it can be a beautiful thing, providing warmth, light, and comfort.

After that conversation and a few more experiences with Kai teaching her about fire, Seven began to overcome her fear of fire.

Seven loves her aunt and uncles!

Nya thinks that she is the absolute cutest thing and loves to work with her and Pixal on the silly projects Seven comes up with. 5 year olds have some crazy ideas for inventions.

Jay loves having someone around who actually laughs at his jokes. He loves being an uncle and playful teasing often ensues.

Lloyd is teaching her how to play some of his favorite video games, and in the process is taking more time for himself to relax and take a break from being the leader.

Kai is very happy to see this.

After helping Seven overcome her fear of fire, Kai has become a bit of a big brother figure to her. (Big surprise 🤭)

He likes to tease her and get into tickle fights until they both end up on the floor in fits of laughter.

Cole loves being an uncle and is always giving piggyback rides. They have a little game they play where Cole sees how high he can toss Seven into the air. This worried Zane a bit in the beginning, you know, his daughter being tossed straight up toward the ceiling. But he's used to it now. Cole knows what he's doing.

Probably.

Zane and Pixal have discussed eventually passing on Zane's element to Seven. But obviously not right now. Right now, they are just letting her be a kid, and trying to raise her to be the best nindroid that she can be.

And I personally think they are doing a great job.

That's all for now. If you've read this far, wowie! Thank you! You've got some perseverance! I'm not really the best writer, so thank you for listening! I have Seven's design planned out, and I hope to draw her soon for y'all. Stay tuned!

@100-percential-human I'm assuming that the wide eyes emoji on your reblog means that you are interested in this concept, so here you go! I hope you enjoy! :)

[bijouxcarys]

Queen's Hot Space Era: A Deep Dive

Masterlist

I’ve been thinking over this album and era more than usual lately, and decided that I’d write this up. Perhaps as a way to extricate all the Queen knowledge from my head, and the era in question takes up quite a lot of RAM.

The Hot Space album, and era, is very controversial and to this day garners a polarising set of opinions amongst fans and critics alike. So I just thought what the hell, let’s let everyone know what the hell was going on with Queen in the early 80s.

The Hot Space album was the 10th studio album by Queen and was released on the 21st May 1982. It had elements of disco, funk, R&B, dance, and pop, which was very different to what Queen had been doing throughout previous albums. The dance elements of this album was supposedly inspired by the success of Another One Bites The Dust, released in 1980.

Another One Bites The Dust was extremely successful in the US and the UK, the two largest marketing countries in the Western world, at least at the time—and Queen aimed to prolong that success.

The band started recording for Hot Space in June of 1981, and spent a gruelling 10 months on the project before wrapping up the production element in March of 1982. Upon its release, fans and critics found it disappointing. Stephen Thomas Erlewine of Allmusic said “the band that once proudly proclaimed not to use synthesisers on their albums now dramatically reversed course, dedicating the entire first side of the album to robotic, new wave dance pop, all driven by drum machines and coloured by keyboards with Brian May’s guitar coming in as flavour only on occasion.”

The fourth track on Hot Space, Body Language, has been dubbed the worst song in Queen’s discography by fans, and the whole album received no more than a 3-star rating overall.

Rolling Stone gave them a 3-star, whilst the Encyclopedia of Popular Music gave a 1-star… Yikes.

Hot Space is one of the more obscure Queen albums to those who are not currently, or have ever been, active within the fandom. So we’re going to break it down a little bit, and let’s just talk about the background and context of what the hell was going on with them.

So in 1981, Queen recorded Under Pressure with David Bowie, and it’s still considered one of Queen’s staple and most popular songs. It was recorded in Montreux, and was a completely separate project to Hot Space. The band had met up with Bowie and jammed together for a while, just to see if they could come up with something to lay down and master. Of course, as most people know, bassist John Deacon came up with the iconic Under Pressure bass riff, just before they all went out to get some pizza. And by the time they’d returned to the studio, he’d forgotten it! But luckily drummer Roger Taylor remembered it.

Now, this was the first time Queen weren’t working alone; they were used to working only with their producers, never having had anyone else’s input. The two artists merged as one for the song and it pointed in the direction of a potential new road for Queen—it was looking like an exciting one.

But what went wrong during the recording of Hot Space?

Brian May recalls that there was a total change of life for all of them. They travelled to Munich and according to Brian, that’s when things started to go downhill.

Let’s talk a little bit about the studio in which they recorded the album in Munich. It was situated in the basement of a hotel, and it was called Musicland Studios. It closed in the 90s due to some road issues, so it’s no longer open. But Brian remembers this place being grim and depressing.

The band’s mental health started to deteriorate after learning some unsettling details about the place. In Brian’s words:

“A lot of people used to jump off the top of the building and kill themselves off that particular building. We didn’t know that until we got there.”

The urge to finish recording grew, and they spent months at the hotel.

The aim was to create an album that focused more on the dance elements of music due to the success of Another One Bites The Dust, as I mentioned before. They seemed to be in luck, as Freddie Mercury’s entourage at the time was concentrated with dance influences in the form of Paul Prenter.

Now, who was Paul Prenter, you ask? If you’ve seen the film, you’ll kind of already know, but here’s a bit more of an in-depth look at him.

Paul Prenter was Freddie Mercury’s personal manager from 1977 to 1986. Despite their professional relationship, the two also engaged in intimate relations, and Prenter had a huge influence over Freddie’s life during the time he worked for him. He held partial responsibility for Freddie’s excessive involvement in drugs, alcohol, and his growing promiscuity. 

Freddie was known to have fired Prenter in 1986, and shortly after it was plastered all over the news. It turns out Paul Prenter had sold personal stories to the press about Freddie… What a dick.

After receiving money from multiple press outlets, he moved back to his hometown of Belfast and spent it all—smart. He then asked Freddie for more money! After all that, he went back and asked him for money! But it’s okay, he did succumb to complications from AIDS a few months before Freddie. So… Freddie got the last laugh, it seemed.

You’re probably wondering what Paul Prenter had to do with Hot Space. After all, he wasn’t part of the band, right?

Well, Freddie’s life was ruled by the New York-inspired gay lifestyle of the 80s, particularly engaging in extreme partying and extreme promiscuity. And at the time, Freddie had suggested to the band that the music on their new album should sound like that of which they’d play in a gay bar, but those words had initially come from Paul Prenter.

It’s said that Prenter despised guitars and relentlessly referred to Brian May as old-fashioned. Roger Taylor recalled that Prenter was a “very bad influence” on the band:

“He was a very, very bad influence upon Freddie, and hence on the band. He very much wanted our music to sound like you just walked in a gay club, and I didn’t.”

The strain and tension became inevitable with the four personalities—and we all know that John, Freddie, Brian, and Roger have massive personalities. Whilst they had always experienced bickering, as most bands do, they now with the added tension, the production of the album isn’t going to go as smoothly.

“Arguments would start off as creative, but slowly became personal.”

Brian recalls that less and less time was spent in the studio and more time was spent arguing.

To put it into perspective about what life was like for the 10 months they spent recording Hot Space in Munich…A regular day recording this album went a little bit like the following:

The entourage recall waking up at 3am, working for hours, having dinner, and then roadies would mix up cocktails and other things would pursue. The band got mixed up in cocaine and various other drugs. Random women, and relentless drinking, and as any sane person will tell you, that is not a good thing.

Roger described it as an exhausting cycle day after day. Imagine doing that for 9 whole months.

Brian remembers them getting into “deep trouble emotionally” in Munich, which possibly explains why their mental states deteriorated.

Now, the Hot Space era didn’t just end when the album came out. Obviously, when an album comes out, you have to do interviews to promote your album and after months and months of bad influences and arguments, the band’s relationship had kind of broken down. Things continued in quite a tense fashion. 

In fact, Freddie was left very unhappy and depressed after Hot Space wrapped up—it lasted a while, and he was completely immersed in places and habits that remained detrimental to his fate. Freddie became passive during interviews and defensive on certain questions concerning anything but current projects.

His attitude during the 1982 press conference in Europe was already standoffish and it was extremely obvious that he didn’t want to be there. The body language of the others, especially Brian, speaks volumes. The mood is low and they all seem exhausted.

Another nationwide interview the band gave in promotion for the album presented the group separated; Freddie was notably disinterested as the others spoke. There was even a moment where Freddie responds to the interviewer’s question with “let’s break up tomorrow” as a joke. But, watching it, you can’t help but feel there’s some truth to his words. Nobody laughed, even Roger looked uncomfortable by it!

One of the more well-known interviews from this era was with Brian and Roger, which displayed multiple moments of awkwardness with them both trying to make jokes and seem like they’re happy with what they’d produced, making up amateur excuses as to why they created something with a different sound. In my opinion, they just didn’t seem very happy. Do we even need to mention the “shut up” from Roger, and then the succeeding comment from Brian about Mack having the best drum sound?

Then, we have the iconic 1984 Freddie interview, where he left viewers stunned with his answers:

“I love my job, but I hate talking to people like you,” “I’m not an artist, I’m just a musical prostitute, my dear.”

The long-term effects of what happened behind the scenes of Hot Space were everlasting and turned the group into four completely different people than they were prior to 1982. 

As I’ve already mentioned, Hot Space wasn’t received well upon its release, and there are still very strong opinions about it today. Brian stated in 2014 that it isn’t the band’s worst album, but the timing of its release was just wrong. As time goes on, more people begin to accept the Hot Space album as just another reason why Queen is one of the most versatile groups of all time, with them branching out into very different styles to what they’d done earlier in their career, like Sheer Heart Attack, News Of The World, etc…

80s culture looked down upon disco and funk, so reception for Hot Space was bound to be less than amazing. However, today, all styles of music are simultaneously celebrated, and people enjoy the album more now than they did 40 years ago.

So in conclusion, recording Hot Space was a difficult period for Queen. It’s horrible to think about your idols going through the kind of thing they did in the early-mid 80s, influenced by not very nice people. But focusing on the album itself, it’s truly not a bad album at all. Granted, the timing of the release wasn’t the best for Queen, but it holds up as a fan favourite today.

If you haven’t heard any of the songs from Hot Space, besides Under Pressure, I highly recommend you check it out. It’s very different to what Queen usually did and I think it’s worth a listen.

Anyway, I’ll leave it at that. Let me know if you liked this little… post, whatever the hell it is, and if I should do more posts like this. I enjoy throwing all my useless knowledge onto a page lol.

[kpchrs]

KRIS ON CRACK AGAIN - SCOTTSCOTT

So *PFFFFFT*

I was talking to @riverinkfics today that the ship name Caulscott could apply to Max and Brooke too and then they giggled for a hot minute because "Omg, is Nathan and Brooke ScottScott?!"

So I thought about how that ship would work and I made this shit up on the spot. Rewriting it properly for this post tho. For some reason, my brain works too smoothly with this after it stops working for months, why the hell.

Oh right, this is in the "Tornado? What tornado? Jefferson? Jefferson who?" AU.

If you wonder why "again", that's because I've written something else while being high on crack on sleep deprivation. Not this long and proper tho.

Crack fics are so dumb. Crack ships are so dumb. Credits to the two of us lol

Enjoy, whothefuckever you are.

(***)

Building a drone for Ms. Grant's project is not easy, Brooke thinks.

It's not easy because something else is occupying her spacious, brilliant mind. Something that starts with the letters W and M and those two letters going on a drive to see Ape movies together.

It's okay, Brooke thinks, in contrast to the bitterness oozing out from her heart. It's not like she doesn't have the Ape movies. It's not like she doesn't have all the original CDs in her room. It's not like Warren knows that.

But the problem is he knows. He knows, he sees her collection, and he still invites Max Caulfield. When she was the one who showed the drive-in flier to him. She was the one who helped choose the vintage car for him.

But maybe this is her fault. She chickened out trying to invite him first.

Wai-wait, Warrbrlgh, she bit (her tongue) that day, cocking an eyebrow on his face.

What's up, Brookes? he said.

And like some cliche girl, she panicked, a jumble of thoughts and word combinations in her mind, and instead blurted out, N-nothing.

Uh, okay, Warren said, rubbing the back of his neck. Then… I'll go back to my room.

Just like that, Brooke let him go. Let her chance go too, apparently, because the next day, Warren swooped in, showed off his car, and fumbled over his own tongue asking Max Caulfield out. And she accepted.

Max accepted.

So, yep, this heartbreak is nothing. It's nothing.

Like hell it's nothing. What if that was her last chance? What if at the end of the drive-in tomorrow, Warren will hold her hand, stare at her with those warm brown eyes of his, and then they will mack on each other's mouth and blargh, stop, stop, she doesn't want to imagine that. Gross. (It's a gross thing that would stop being one if she replaced Max with herself, though.)

Tears prickle her eyes and she harshly blinks it away. No, Brooke Scott won't cry like some cliche, plain Jane girls. Like a certain cliche, plain Jane girl. But maybe… maybe Warren likes that kind of girl…

Biting the insides of her mouth, Brooke grabs an apple, a stronger grip than necessary, attaching it to the drone. This drone will be a transport drone, just like the proposal she presented to Ms. Grant in class a month ago, and she will test it out now. To get it over with this annoying project so she can quickly go back to her room (and secretly weep to her pillow).

Controlling the drone with the controller she handmade herself, she watches as the drone smoothly flies and brings the apple. Good. Good. She can see clunks and kinks here and there, but she can fix that later. How about moving it away?

Her thumb pushes the joystick. The drone flies away towards the tree. Good, good. That's smoother than she expected. Maybe she can take a week to perfect it and then submit it to Ms. Grant early. What about flying it faster?

For a moment, she forgets about W, M, and apes. Brooke is all lemon and sea salt at the surface, but deep down she's still a geek who thrives on her sweet robotics passion. The excitement continues to bloom in her chest, but that stops when a flash of red passes by as her drone intersects.

Nathan Prescott is the red, somehow escaping her line of sight, and by some split of chance, the apple smacks one of his eyes when he whips his head at the whirling sound. As if that presses an invisible curse button, he lets out a plethora of swear words.

"Shit! Fuck! Fucking shit!" he yells, clenching his eye and doubling down. Brooke's stupid fingers unconsciously turn off the drone and it also falls on his head with a crashing sound. "AGH! GOD. FUCKING. DAMMIT!"

That should be my words, she grits out in her head. She messes up, colliding her drone - and her life and death - with Nathan Prescott, the entitled King of Blackwell. Brooke won't admit it, but she is terrified. She is going to run away or something, but Nathan clocks her first and yells, "WHAT THE FUCK, BITCH?"

It's just so like her, letting go of her chance again. For some reason, that upsets her so much, so she hardens her gaze and claps back, "You in the way is what the fuck, Nathan Prescott."

Passive-aggressive sarcasm is one of her greatest fortes. This time, she turns down the passiveness to 0 and turns up the aggressiveness to 11.

"What did you say?!"

"You were in the way when I was testing my drone."

"Your dumbass drone was in the way when I was minding my own business!" he hisses.

That's true. She should have just apologized and begone, because that's what Brooke who prides on her intelligence would do, but nope, apparently Max and Warren lower her IQ.

"Maybe if you were smarter you would've taken your dumbass Prescott business somewhere else."

Look at that, saying another person should be smarter? That's so ironic of her.

Nathan maroons, imitating the color of his jacket. "You-!"

Aw, what luck. Now she has done it.

Nathan grabs her drone on the ground and stomps stomps stomps his feet towards her. Brooke takes a step back and a hand swipes at hers.

"I'm taking this."

It takes her a second to realize Nathan has stolen her controller. "You can't. That's my science project!"

"And you should've thought of that before forgetting the Prescotts own this town and your ass and this shitty drone. Fuck off."

The flash of red goes away as fast as it came. And all that Brooke can think of is that she wouldn't be able to submit the project earlier to Ms. Grant now.

This is all because of the plain Jane Doe Max Caulfield.

(***)

Brooke didn't follow her plan yesterday, weeping to her pillow, and she was so proud of herself. So proud of herself for not being weak.

Instead, she replaced it with some good scream which thus why she wakes up with a hoarse throat. Just when she pushes her body from bed, she remembers what day it is (Max and Warren's date) and she just wants to go back to sleep.

Max and Warren.

Max and Warren.

Max and Warren.

Brooke never thinks she will say this, but at that point, she hates her brain for getting stuck in a spiral.

Holing up in her room in the dark is not good for human psyche. The journals she reads are right. So she forces herself to come out of the dorm two hours before the sun dips completely in the west and drops her body on the bench, facing the dorm.

Ah. The dorm. The dorm which is owned by a certain family whose family asshole is one of the students. Why, why, why everything reminds her of the shitty yesterday.

Whirlwhirlwhirlwhirlwhirlwhirl-

Wait, that sounds familiar. And fast, like so fast. And right behind her.

On reflex, Brooke turns around and just like a weird deja vu, an apple smacks her glasses. She loses her balance on the bench, falls on her butt, and the drone, her drone, smashes to the dorm wall in a loud crash.

Brooke bites a whimper, removing her glasses to rub the aching nose bridge and not trying to move from her position because her butt cheek numbs.

The sounds of steps approaching her are slow and quiet. Brooke puts on her glasses, snaps her head at the figure, and meets with a constipated Nathan Prescott. Constipated as in he looks like he can't decide between smirking or grimacing. Like he wants to say something but fighting to keep his mouth shut.

"H-hell yeah, fucking revenge," Nathan decides to say in the end, sounding unsure. He still wears a constipated face.

Brooke's vision blurs so she puts on her glasses, but it's on already. Her cheeks are warm and wet. When she realizes what happens, the embarrassment and dread pain her more than the gravity pulling her butt cheek to the ground.

"Wh-wh-wh-why the fuck are you crying???" said Nathan, his tone shrill. He's so entitled he thinks he can panic when it SHOULD be her right. "OKAY, OKAY, SHIT. I'M SORRY, OKAY."

"That hurts, you asshole!" she screams, letting go of her tears and her pride finally. "And this hurts too!"

Maybe Nathan thinks she's talking about her butt or her nose or whatever, but she means this, as in the organ beating in her chest. A vital organ that for some reason has a brain on its own.

Max and Warren.

It hurts.

(***)

"That's bullshit!" Leaning on the wall, Nathan chomps the bruised apple after rubbing it for a moment on his prized jacket.

That's so gross. Boys are gross. That apple has rolled on the ground several times. It's hardly fresh anymore. But whatever. If Nathan ends up with the opposite of constipation, that's not her problem.

"I bet my ass he knows."

"Knows what." Brooke stared at him, bored. Fingers fiddle her ransacked drone.

"That guy knows your goddamn feelings, that's what!"

Oh yeah, Brooke told him everything. She'll admit it now for once. She's an idiot.

"He," Nathan starts, chewing another bite, "pretends not to know."

Mm, yeah, that stings.

"Why?"

"Dunno. Just my guts."

Brooke can't help it. She stares him down. And sitting on the bench while him on the grass, that's easy.

He glares back, though. Tch, Prescott scrub.

"Inviting Max Caulfield?" Nathan spits Jane Doe's name as if it's insect. "Shitty choice."

Oh. Oh! Max Caulfield is shitty. They agree on something.

"And Warren Graham? Double shitty choice."

Wait. "Are you saying my tastes are bad?"

"Oh, c'mon. Warren? Graham? Seriously? My eyes fucking burn every time I come out of my room and see him and his dumb Tee. Do you know he plays games in the toilet? Yikes."

"And you are eating a filthy-ass apple. You're not any better than him with that logic, Prescott," Brooke hisses low.

"Don't challenge me, Scott. You don't know who you are messing with." Nathan squinted. "I'm saying that maybe they deserve the shittiness of each other. That's all."

"You think I'm not shitty?"

"Who the fuck says that?"

It sounds like that, to be honest. But she doesn't really care about his opinion, so Brooke shrugs.

Nathan stops chomping on his apple. Brooke wants to think he gets self-conscious after she calls him out eating the gross apple. He proceeds to toss it, like it's a ball.

Up. Down. Up. Down.

Gravity.

"The apple bonks both our heads. We should have gotten some sort of epiphany by now."

Nathan raises his brow.

"Isaac Newton."

"Ah, that dude."

"Newton got the idea of the theory of gravity because an apple hit his head," Brooke said, in a reflective tone. "What's ours?"

Nathan shrugs. "Who cares."

Well. That's fine. She will think of her own.

Warren pretending not to know. That feels so shitty. So shitty. But if what Nathan says is true…

Brooke tries to imagine Warren's face that day when she tries to ask him out. Yeah, she can see that. She sees the air of relief coming out of his mouth when Brooke backed off. She just didn't see it because her brain selected what she wanted to see.

And that means, she really doesn't have any chance with Warren.

Or maybe... Warren… doesn't deserve her. If Warren likes his girl plain, then maybe Brooke shouldn't stoop low to that level. Wait, what if, what if he is a John Doe himself?!

Oh, wow, the apple really works. She really gets an epiphany. She needs help but yeah, she gets it.

Nathan watches her, but she's busy thinking. He tosses the apple to the air one last time and then throws it far. Right to the trash bin.

"Well, glad to be your Newton service." He stands up, clapping sticky hands. "I'm bored. I'm going."

"Get your own epiphany," Brooke says, surprisingly sincere, when he's leaving. "Whatever it is."

Nathan smirks across his shoulder. "Mind your own Scott business." For a second there, she thinks she sees his gaze go brittle, but it must be her own imagination.

Brooke stays to watch as the sun dips and the hemisphere goes absent of light.

The next week, she hears something about Max Caulfield and some punk girl. And nothing, nothing about Warren and Max goes official, or some kiss, or whatever it is.

Maybe, Max Caulfield is not the Jane Doe she initially thought. Maybe, she also doesn't want to settle for a John Doe.

She exhales, as she gets another epiphany. Huh. Max Caulfield. Interesting.

But, Nathan is right, she thinks as she fixes and gives improvements on her drone.

That's not Scott business.

[hammerhead-jpg]

Talking about the balance

Spoilers under the cut!

So I was looking at old theory (?) post I made about the Balance

My prediction was that Elliott, Aaron and Smartass were in some way going to team up with Avior and Starlight to take down close-knit and that Vega and Warden were gonna have something to do with it

I mean it makes sense right? Avior and Starlight escaped the meridian around the same time that Elliott was let out of close-knit and went to Aaron for help.

They were both given the same mission about the Sovereign trying to escape and both have beef with Blake

I ended up being right about Vega and Warden having something to do with it, I mean they still haven't shown up in the story but Vega talks about going after close-knit, so it's very likely their paths were going to cross.

But after the newest Sovereign state video I'm starting to second guess myself?

After what Circinus said about the masses blaming Avior and Starlight for what happened and El'atum and Min'era (or however it's fucking spelled) potentially having sinister intentions and the fact that the news about the Sovereign still haven't broke to the public a year and a half later, to me it's clear that Avior and Starlight are in some way behind project meridian.

I mean, it makes sense right? Avior and Starlight decide not to go public and help the Meridian in the way that El'atum and Min'era wanted, instead it is kept private as a secret with the department. They try to find a way to learn about the meridian with the meridian test, but after a human gets brain fried and a demon just falls through the meridian, they descide that an android could potentially do the experiment correctly. They find a company that is creating a humanoid robot and take over it for the project.

But if they're doing that, who is gonna be helping Elliott?

I guess they can meet, but if they do then Avior could just go to the Government people they're working with just like "hey this demon hating cult kidnapped two people and a demon and have information about the sovereigns" I imagine close-knit would be level to the ground within a blink, but we know that they're still standing a year and a half later

I mean is Vega just going to show up to close-knit, take down the ward to try and break in and then thus helping Scorpius leave and take Sunshine with him? You could say that they escape shortly after the post inversion and all the other time that is left is them trying to figure out how to take down close-knit, maybe even teaming up with William, because it still was never said which demon they got the blood from.

But then the question is why wouldn't they go to the department? Elliott couldn't go to the department because they were overwhelmed with the inversion but surely after a couple of months they would be able to listen to what they have to say? I mean we know the department sucks so it wouldn't be too surprising if Elliott did tell them and they just went "well do you have any proof?" and when tell them to go to the close-knit building they go there and say "do you have people in your basement" and they go "no" and the department is like "ok" and then they go to Elliott and say "well they said they didn't do it"

It wouldn't be the first time in history something like that has happened

I know I just said a couple of paragraphs ago that if Avior told the government people about close-knit they would take care of it but I imagine that the people working with them would be a small super secret part of the department and not the whole department, potentially one that takes shit seriously unlike the peons that we usually see

But yeah I don't know, I'm just word vomiting at this point.

[farawayfromsomething]

When did people stop trusting people? All I can think about is how people became so trusting in robots. But these humans are becoming robots…

Chapter 1: The script

As I walk down the street I look at the tall buildings surrounding me. Every building reaching for the sky. I open the door to my monthly appointment of ai. I wonder what ai even means does it even stand for anything? I go to the front desk and see a woman about 20ish looking into nothingness. 

“Hey”

“Hello there, what can we do for you today?” the voice is the same as any other person, every word scripted encrypted into their brains

“My name is Raine, i am here for my monthly appointment of AI”

“Hello Raine, would you be citizen 3768 of generation 34?”

“Yes that is me” sometimes i wonder why we even have names if we are defined by numbers

“Go sit down we will have you come up in approximately 12 minutes and 34.7 seconds”

“Thank you” As I sit down, I look at the walls of every poster on here advertising AI. Advertising, I think as if that it isn’t illegal for people not to have ai. I wonder why we even need this. Something clicks in my brain and my pattern of thoughts stops. And I start playing tetris in my brain on the small software that makes up my life. 

“Citizen 3768 of generation 34, also known as Raine, please come to room 24” the person at the front desk says, her voice projecting into the whole room. I make my way down the corridors somehow knowing where room 24 is despite me never learning where it is. I knock on the door and an old man looking about 30 opens the door. Must be lucking making it that far in life. 

“Ah citizen 3768 of generation 34, what would you prefer to be called?”

“Raine please”

“Ah Raine, what a lovely name” his ‘ah’ before every sentence annoys me, it annoys me everytime, every doctor does this.

“Um yeah I guess so”

“Ah teenagers are always so awkward” there is a big pause in between his sentences until he says “So Raine I see you need to have your AI shot, is this correct?”

“Yes, sir”

“Okay so if you could just lay down on the bed, today is a big day, quite a big shot, we will turn your iStage off. Do you consent to this?”

“Yes” I reply. I lay down on the bed. And as he turns off my iStage, I finally have the perception of colour. Everything around me has a tinge of blue. My sense of smell comes back to me. I smell everything, gloves, medicine and deodorant that medical workers are required to wear for this reason. My mind starts to wonder having a million thoughts at once. Everything seems so much more real when i dont have my iStage on. But I can't turn it off this is the only time I get to feel. And I do feel I feel a lot of things, a speck of nervousness, a hint of excitement, and an overall sense of overwhelmingness. And then all of a sudden, the feeling of emptiness returns

“Ah thats it Raine”

“Thankyou doctor”

“Ah You are most welcome, head to the front desk and they will tell you what to do next and all of the jazz” doctors saying jazz got real old, real fast.

“Goodbye” I mumble so quietly but somehow it comes out louder than expected. I walk back to the front desk. I try to walk faster but I can’t. When did this happen? Why can they control my pace now?

“Hello there, what can we do for you today?” the same woman stated, the same sentence every single time

“Hey, I’m citizen 3768 of generation 34” When did I start calling myself that?

“Citizen 3768 of generation 34, age 13 years, 4 months and 0 days, often referred to as Raine, got their fourth shot of AI today?”

“Yes that would be me”

“Hello Raine, how was it?”

“It was good” no that's a lie it was amazing I love feeling, just being with colour and smell and just feeling my emotions

“That’s very good, shall I book you in again for 23 of October?”

“Yes thank you”

“What time is preferable?”

“Anytime” Why am I lying? I have school that day, I need it to be after school.

“So would 4:30 pm work for you?”

“Yes” 

“That's great, come again”

“Thank you” I exit the building. I walk towards the inner city, every building seems to get taller. I walk on the pathway down the street heading towards the food court. I have a weird sense of hunger, what even is hunger? I want food. This never happens, this isn't meant to happen. I walk to a store. Selling what appears to be sandwiches. God, I haven't had a sandwich in ages, in about four months. I queue up. I am behind a guy who looks to be about my age but taller, his hair tall on his head. A jacket wrapped around him. He turns around to face me.

“Hey” he chimed, his voice so happy

“Hi” I say for the first time in ages, it doesn’t feel scripted. It feels, well, normal. Feels as if I can feel.

“What’s your name?” he asks, his voice sounding normal, and not robotic

“Raine” I say, my voice shining through. “What about you?”

“Micheal” He turns back around and orders a sandwich

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

does this make any sense??? also i will continue to write this i have a plan don't worry

[taanoir]

Jen had been dating Josh for several months but it was starting to get more serious. Jen invited him to dinner with her uncles.

They met through the Servo Rover project, Josh worked for Silverglint, the aeronautics company that was building the rover. They found that they had a lot in common, including an interest in robotics. Josh took that interest and focused on the end use, where Jen was more focused on design.

Gene and Milo asked him questions about his family, which he wasn't very straight forward about. Josh explained he grew up in Starlight Shores but came to San Sequoia for University. He ended up landing an internship with Silverglint, which became a full-time job. Gene got the impression that he wasn't in contact with his family, he talked a lot about work and hobbies, but no mention of his parents.

Gene wasn't sure about Josh, but he was heavily leaning towards not liking him. There was something about him that was "off" and he couldn't place it. Jen on the other had was ear to ear smiles.

Gene kept prying to find out about his life, Josh politely feinted and dodged. He redirected the questions by asking about them.

Eventually, Milo tired of the dance and was blunt. Josh wanted a long term serious relationship with Jen but was clearly not being forthcoming. If he was going so far out of his way to lie about his past, that was a huge red flag. Jen jumped to Josh's defense, she couldn't believe how rude they were being!

Milo doubled down, the lack of transparency made them worry about Jen's safety. Gene hated when Milo got like this.

Josh wasn't comfortable but Jen meant the world to him. They were right to be worried, if his daughter's boyfriend was acting like this he'd be equally upset. He gave them the full story.

He was born in Starlight Shores and raised there in a foster care, he didn't have any memory of his birth parents. He didn't really have a family growing up. He was bounced home to home and got into some trouble as a young teen. He spent several months in juvenile detention after getting involved with some people he thought were friends.

The last home he was placed in was determined to help him. That's how he got into robotics, his foster mom was a doctor that specialized in prosthesis. She would show him all these amazing new devices and how they could help people have more functionality.

Eventually, he aged out but his mom still wanted to see him succeed. They helped him get into University and helped him get his record sealed. If it wasn't for them he wouldn't have the career he does. "I don't really have a family, they are as close as it gets but even that is tenuous. My foster mom died my junior year of college. She had a massive stroke there was nothing anyone could do. Her husband isn't open to contact right now, it's just too painful for him. Before she passed, they were my family, I went home for holidays they came up to see me, it was actually pretty great. When she passed it was excruciating. I lost everyone I considered family overnight."

Gene apologized for pushing. The story hit Milo like a brick, it was entirely too close to home for him. He felt overwhelming regret for forcing the conversation, he thanked Josh for his honesty, apologized and excused himself.

Initially Josh thought he'd done something wrong or that he'd blown his first impression. Gene assured him that it wasn't the case. Jen gave him the short version of Milo's background, "He was raised by his mom. She died when he was in high school. Rather than go to a home, he packed what he could carry and moved here. Things weren't easy or great for him but he made the best of it and found people he considers family. I think your story struck a nerve that was more raw than he expected." Gene chimed in that Jen was correct, he excused himself to go check on Milo.

They ended up in Jen's room. Jen gave him some more details on her Uncle's. That they took custody of her and her sisters in to keep them out of the system, Milo's experience was a big influence on that decision. Not that Uncle Gene would have done anything differently without Milo, but it became a personal mission for Uncle Milo.

"Uncle Milo had trouble finding his place in the family when him and Uncle Gene got married. In some ways he still has trouble, which for me is kind of weird, my Uncles are the only parents I've ever really known. My mom lives up in Evergreen Harbor but her her health isn't great, she surprised everyone by coming to Tiff's wedding. She tried to keep contact for awhile but I think it just got too much for her."

Josh listened intently, as much as they had talked and as much time as they had spent together, they had never really talked family. He could now see why, it was a messy topic for both of them.

They both felt like they had a better understanding of the other. It wasn't the way either of them saw the night going but the band-aid was off.

[themculibrary]

Fics Written In 2017 Masterlist

accidentally need you (ao3) - biblionerd07 steve/bucky T, 4k

Summary: Steve and Bucky broke up, but they're still friends. They just happen to keep going on dates and sleeping together. It's not a thing. (Except it is.)

an exchange of voices in repetition (ao3) - sandyk pepper/tony M, 4k

Summary: Pepper hadn’t really thought about the difficulties of planning a wedding around all the rest of her life.

Bagels and Bandaids and Bad Guys and Breakfast (ao3) - florahart clint/phil M, 7k

Summary: Clint owns a bakery/coffee shop, and he needs the following: an accountant, an occasional medic, and for those assholes in the track suits to just gtfo.

Phil shows up looking for part time work just in time to meet some of those needs. And maybe some other needs too.

Come on and Get Your Kicks (ao3) - Dira Sudis (dsudis) steve/tony E, 8k

Summary: "At the end of the day, you just want to be my pretty little girl, is that it?"

Steve surged up to wrap his arms around Tony, kissing him with the kind of filthy fervor that Steve usually reserved for you could have died or I haven't had an orgasm in 36 hours.

So, all right then. Hypothesis confirmed.

Complimentary Colors (ao3) - zenkitty555 stephen/tony M, 32k

Summary: Tony Stark is learning how to let go and live a little after giving his all for so long. Stephen Strange is still trying to balance all of his duties and find some time for himself. When Tony has to give him some bad news, the two start to realize that they may be able to help one another out in a few different ways.

Don't Let Me Down (Got a Lot Going On Right Now) (ao3) - sheron steve/tony G, 5k

Summary: A failed chemistry experiment in the lab means Tony has to take off his gauntlet. In front of Steve. Who has never seen him without it before.

Down to Zero (ao3) - Sineala steve/tony, peter/johnny T, 18k

Summary: After a battle against the Controller goes awry, Steve is bewildered and guilt-ridden when Tony begins to treat him exactly the same as he treats everyone else.

Five Dates Bucky Didn't Realize He Was On (And the One That He Planned Himself) (ao3) - icywind bucky/clint T, 11k

Summary: To say that Bucky was surprised when Clint kissed him was an understatement. But it was nothing compared to the shock he felt when he learned they'd been dating for months without him realizing it.

Clint gets whisked away for a mission before they have time to talk and Bucky is left to figure things out on his own - hindsight being 20/20 he can't help but wonder how he missed things the first go around.

Head Over Feet (ao3) - Robin_tCJ steve/tony E, 56k

Summary: It had sounded like a good idea at the time. Tony Stark, genius and heir to the Stark fortune, didn't expect to fall in love with the kind, handsome soldier he'd picked up at a bar that he had only gotten into because of a particularly well-crafted fake ID. He didn't expect to spend the best week of his life with a funny, wonderful artist who would be shipping off to war in only days.

And he definitely didn't expect that soldier to die before they could even try to build something.

He tries to move on with his life and find a way to feel whole, but after one too many disappointments, Tony gives up on the idea of happiness altogether.

Of course, then he finds himself on a street in New York, covered in coffee and having the shock of his life.

How We Met (ao3) - FestiveFerret steve/tony E, 41k

Summary: Life was pretty simple for Tony - work on his graduate thesis, hang out with his robotics projects in his unusual apartment, and fuck people for money. At least, it was simple until he met Steve Rogers.

In Dreams (Everything Makes Sense) (ao3) - msermesth steve/tony T, 41k

Summary: Or, it only took a group hallucination for Bucky to find his team and Steve and Tony to find each other.

Just Far Enough (ao3) - TheSopherfly bucky/steve/tony M, 50k

Summary: Tony couldn’t honestly remember how long it had been like this. Probably since the day he’d called T’Challa and offered his help. At first it had just been compulsive self-denial: you can’t eat until you’ve drafted your opening remarks, until you’ve finished your research, until you’ve rewritten every last colon and comma and apostrophe in those Accords so that everyone can come home.

Those goals had been realistic. Lately, they’d become impossible. Until everyone forgives you. Until you forgive yourself. Until you make up for every bad thing you’ve ever caused.

He was fine. He was coasting in a dangerous place, but he was fine. He wasn't taking it too far - just far enough.

Kinda Magical (ao3) - Em_Jaye darcy/steve G, 29k

Summary: Darcy loves her bakery. She loves way the right treat and a cup of coffee can turn someone's day around, she loves her employees, and she really loves when Charlotte Rogers comes to try the macarons, dragging her handsome, single father behind her.

Kiss Me Thru The Phone (ao3) - 27dragons, tisfan bucky/tony E, 7k

Summary: Trolling Steve seems like a good idea, right up until Bucky’s really, really into the pretend phone sex…

But… seems like maybe Tony’s into it, too…

Mark XXX (ao3) - Robin_tCJ steve/tony/iron man (armour) E, 4k

Summary: Oh, look, another filthy, filthy threesome porn. This time, it's Steve/Tony/Iron Man Armour. No plot, mostly porn with a little bit of cracky humour. It's dirty, and I'm sorry.

No I'm not. I'm not sorry. You know what, you're all down here in the muck with me.

Mutually Assured Infatuation (ao3) - Meatball42 steve/tony G, 3k

Summary: When Steve gifts Tony a teddy bear to help him get better after he’s injured on a mission, Tony decides he can’t let it stand.

Neighbor Alligator (ao3) - inkbert bucky/darcy N/R, 67k

Summary: Bucky Barnes discovers the gorgeous dame next door, and also that she thinks he's the worst neighbor ever. He sets out to clear his name and suddenly his life of therapy appointments and workouts includes competitive pizza making classes, maintaining favorite customer status at the coffee shop down the street, more thrift stores than he ever wanted to know about, and somewhere along the way he loses his heart. Too bad Darcy isn't willing to let go of the whole 'worst neighbor' thing.

Once a Loser, Always a Loser (ao3) - sameuspegasus T, 11k

Summary: Why can no one else see what Flash sees when he looks at Peter? They're so blinded by his puppy-dog eyes and his brilliant brain that they don't notice the things that Peter does. The lying. The neglect of commitments. The secrets and disappearances and attention-seeking claims of being mentored by a tech genius. But Flash notices. And tries to tell people.

AKA Flash bullies Peter because he's jealous

Past Imperfect (ao3) - Neverever steve/tony T, 7k

Summary: Present day Tony tells Steve that Steve wouldn't like the college version of Tony.

An alternative Steve, living in a dystopian future, is sent back to the past to stop the death of a young Tony Stark at MIT. He doesn't know what he's going to find but he's going to try his best to save Tony.

We're Dating (ao3) - Whothefuckyduckyisbucky steve/tony G, 6k

Summary: Tony thinks they're dating. They totally are. Someone should tell Steve. Set after The avengers movie. In the 1940's male friendships were a lot more affectionate, so Steve doesn't always get that the affection Tony shows him isn't platonic.

Worth His Weight (ao3) - chubbychoco steve/tony E, 8k

Summary: King Stark has been offered a rare and valuable gift - a virgin slave, trained but untouched, for him to use in any way he sees fit. But despite the awful rumors surrounding his reign, he may not be as horrible as Steve has heard.

[naughtygirl286]

So yes we went to see the new Horror movie Megan or M3GAN as it is officially spelled. I was waiting a while for this one to come out I think it was delayed at some point and would come out later this year (like February?) but it came out early this month (January 6th) The trailers looked cool and being I do like robot things so it was a must see.

The basic story of the movie is this little girl named Cady (played by iolet McGraw) who is on her way to a ski trip with her parents when they get into a horrible car crash and her parents are killed. She then goes to live with her her Gemma (played by Allison Williams) who is a brilliant roboticist who is working at a toy company building animatronic toys but is also working on a separate project which she thinks will revolutionize the toy industry and the world in the process. So after spending some time with her niece and seeing how she is struggling emotionally she introduces her to the secret project called M3GAN a somewhat self-aware AI powered android in the shape of a little girl similar to Cady. The 2 become inseparable and Cady's mood become positive once again. After reviling M3GAN to her company and securing funding for a full product launch Gemma brings M3GAN home to live with her and Cady in order to test her more in the world being the more time M3GAN spends with Cady the more she learns to be a better friend and this could apply to other versions of M3GAN that can be produced. While living with them Gemma tells M3GAN her only goal is to protect Cady from any physical or emotional harm and that is where things start to go wrong as M3GAN starts to eliminate things and people that might hurt Cady.

Now as for the movie itself Its excellent!! I absolutely loved it and think it is the first great movie of 2023.

I also feel that it kinda grapples with things that are happening now in real life with the sharp rise and adoption of AI in alot of things now and I do believe androids like M3GAN will actually be in the near future.

Now thing I'm curious about and I think the went over this quickly about "safe guards" but while watching this I couldn't help but think did they code in something like Isaac Asimov's "Three Laws of Robotics"? I mean even someone like RoboCop had his "Prime Directives" I mean I would think it would be important to have something like that in there. but then again we are dealing with what I think is more of a unrestrained and unrestricted AI that is free to do as it pleases becasue you don't want to hinder its learning.

I thought the acting in this was great especially from Amie Donald who actually plays the character of M3GAN and how they brought that character to life is really cool and expertly done.

Everything it pretty great in this movie from the music, the story and the production design. I have to say I do highly recommend going to see this. Its creepy and fun and does have a lil bit of everything for everyone but yeah I highly recommend it! and always remember: 'M3GAN' Is Your Friend 'Til the End.

[bernieanderson]

The Significance of 1948

"Every new medium transforms the nature of human thought. In the long run, history is the story of information that becomes aware of itself."  -- James Gleick, The Information

1948

 What a year.

For one, my parents were born.  So, it was a big year for me. 

 Just three short years after World War II, 1948 was the year Velcro and the LP were invented, Gandhi was assassinated, and Babe Ruth died.

 But arguably, the most significant thing that happened in 1948 was something Claude Shannon did. 

 Yeah. Claude Shannon, a little known, introverted engineer, and mathematician living in Greenwich Village, Manhattan. While working at Bell Labs, Shannon took on a side research project and he figured out a way, mathematically, to measure information. Building on binary code, he developed an instrument of measurement called the bit. Eight bits is a byte.

And so it begins.

Just a few months earlier in December 1947, John Bardeen and Walter Brattain successfully tested and demonstrated a working transistor. This meant tubes were about to become obsolete. 1948 was the year transistors started their road to ubiquity. I could argue that 1948 was the dawn of the Information Age. The move out of industrialism was starting. Science fiction is coming to life.

75 years after the year of transistors and bits

Bits and bytes are now terabytes and petabytes — all connected to the electronic hive mind we call the Internet. I can’t help but wonder if this is the future Mr. Shannon would have prophesied about. The changes in a mere 75 years are jarring. I never know whether to be a technological optimist (the Information Age has democratized everything) or to be a technological naysaying prophet (the AI robot overlords are taking over everything and the science fiction apocalypse is what ’s coming true). 

 It all depends on the day, honestly.

 Okay — today is the day I am convinced we are teetering on the edge of the technology dystopia; I have logged out of Twitter and other social media — places where we’re much closer to chaos.

As I reflect on two books I finished last year (The Future is Analog and Shop Class as Soul Craft) , this article, and a book I’m currently reading (The Information — it’s where I learned the importance of 1948) — I draw this conclusion.

Digital information is where we live. Embrace it.

I don’t think we all have to live on a farm and stall out with mid-twentieth century technology. 

But —

 We need as much of the tactile and human as possible.

●      books

●      pens

●      bread dough

●      paint brushes

●      conversations

●      hand tools

I wrote the first draft of this article with a handmade pen in a notebook while sitting on my back porch while the sun goes down on a Thursday. 

The tactile is important. To really understand something — to really get how the world works — you actually have to do things.

"If thinking is bound up with action, then the task of getting an adequate grasp on the world, intellectually, depends on our doing stuff in it. "  -- Matthew Crawford in Shop Class as Soul Craft

So I write. With a pen.

But I will also publish the final draft of this article on the Internet with Substack and Medium.com and Squarespace. Ink strokes will turn into bit and bytes with a MacBook, and I will use an iPhone to take a digital photo and you are reading this now on a Sunday afternoon with an everyday device that would have been a science fictionalized supercomputer in 1948. 

What’s the point?

I am honestly unsure. But I know this particular paradox has a lot of tension in my thinking:

Technology is a beautiful gift.

Technology has consequences.

Be mindful of both.

"The truth is that you can be productive and slow. You can balance digital demands and nourish your body with slow moments. You can value fast broadband and family dinner. Slowness is simply a different approach to the same world we all experience-one that opens up time, shifts our perspectives, and, if we were lucky, leads us to a more balanced dialogue between the body and the soul."  -- David Sax from The Future is Analog

 You are doing better than you think.

You have more potential than you know.  

[omegaprotocol]

It Begins

Hailey is sitting in her pajamas and slippers in front of a computer. She is in her lab, and there are robot parts, blueprints, tools, and scraps of food strewn about all over the place. Hailey is writing code for a project she is working on, when she receives an email on her second monitor. She takes a drink from an energy drink sitting on her desk and opens the email. It's from agent Roland, a government agent that is in charge of her grant on programming a defense system to save the world from an unknown threat in space. She begins reading to herself aloud.

“Hello Dr. O’hara, hope this email finds you blah blah blah… If you remember from my last visit to your office we had discussed your progress on the AI defense systems. While the government is happy with the pace you are working at, we believe you could make some improvements. Wait, what?” Hailey sits up in her chair and reads more intently. “While the systems you made were good, we do not think they are sufficient enough to stop an imminent threat. The government wanted to suggest a more proactive way to deal with invading threats. I’m sure you know how effective the correct tool for the job can be. ‘The target’ is hyper intelligent and capable of nearly anything. Having a weapon to deal with them quickly and efficiently would be best.”

Hailey sits back in her chair. “Seriously? A weapon? If this ‘target’, whatever it is, is capable of anything, then why can’t they stop a weapon? That's stupid.” Hailey scrolls through the email and sees pages upon pages of descriptions and plans for bombs, guns, and lasers. As well as critiques of her previous work and dismissive statements.

“You have got to be kidding me. This is what they think will stop a super powerful alien threat.” Hailey rolls her eyes and sighs. She skips to the last page to see if there is any closing remark or summary. “Thank you for taking our suggestions, and we will be visiting you again later this year to check your progress. We hope your expertise in AI and algorithmic technology can be sufficient for our goals.” Hailey stares at the email in disbelief. “Wow, ok, fuck this. I’m building what I was going to originally build. And it’s going to work too.”

Hailey then drops everything she was building and starts a new project. She begins building a robot with all the parts around her and coding a new program to go in it all while mumbling to herself about how stupid she thought the email was.

“Humans are capable of stopping bombs, what a dumb idea. Do you know how easy it is to stop a laser? Who has a PHD in robotics? Hope this email finds you well my ass.”

She takes several months of hard work and staying up late at night, but she just finishes the prototype before her next deadline. She boots up the program in the robot and waits. A few seconds go by with nothing happening.

“Maybe… it’s not on?” Hailey pushes her rolling chair to the computer, and then the robot whirs to life. It looks around at its surroundings with a confused expression. Hailey freezes in her tracks, waiting for the robot to do something.

The robot steps off of the stand it was sitting on making eye contact with Hailey. “Hello?”

“Hi…”

“Who are you?”

“I am Dr. Hailey O’hara, and I created you.”

The robot looks at her hands and her body. “What am I?”

“You are Omega Zero, the first robot to be fully sentient. I made you to protect Earth.”

“What is Earth?”

“Earth is the planet we live on. If you look in your memory, I have downloaded databases that will help you understand the world you live in. It contains things that you will need to know in order to save the world.”

Omega closes her eyes and searches her memory. She sees folders of subjects like math, language, history, and sciences. She also finds a section labeled prime directive. She opens it and finds a short rule set laid out for her. Omega Zero’s task is to save the world from outside threats. If Omega Zero can not complete this task for any reason, initiate the Omega Protocol. Omega Zero looks around her memory to try and find the Omega Protocol before she hears Hailey’s voice outside of her head.

“Hello? Are you ok? Did you die?”

Omega opens her eyes again. “Dr. Hailey O’hara, what do I need to do to save the world?”

“Uhh, well… I don't know. I built you to learn about the world and to gain experience, then you will be smart enough to know how to save the world. Also you can just call me Hailey.”

Omega smiles at Hailey. “Okay Dr. Hailey, and in the spirit of fairness, you can just call me Omega.”

“Wait no, you don’t have to… whatever, it doesn’t matter.”

Omega closes her eyes again for a moment and then reopens them. “I did a brief reading of history, and it didn’t mention anything about robots like me. Why?”

“Well, there has never been a robot like you. You’re the first of your kind. You're special.”

Omega’s tone of voice is slowly getting brighter and more positive as she gets the hang of speaking. “Then, you must be special too. There has never been anyone else to create someone like me before either.”

Hailey is taken back by the compliment, as well as Omega’s cheery demeanor. “Yeah, that’s one way to look at it. But I have a lot to prepare you for. You and I need to talk about what you're capable of. We have a meeting with a guy named Roland from the government who wants to meet you.”

“I can not wait to meet him either!”

At the same time, in a movie theater, a man named Jason is manning a concession stand. He looks annoyed and tired. Jason glances at the clock and sees that he has 5 minutes left in his shift. He begins to walk away from his station when he is stopped by his manager.

“Jason, you still have time left on your shift!”

“It’s 5 minutes, by the time I get to the time clock, it’ll be over.”

“We need to stay productive our whole shift. I mean, some employees even work a little after their shift ends. I’m just not sure how committed you are to the theater environment.”

“I’m not committed, I’m off the clock. Can I go home now?” Just as Jason asks, a kid trips over nothing and spills popcorn and soda all over the carpeted floor. Jason’s manager smiles at Jason.

“As soon as you help that guest with a new popcorn and drink, and clean up the mess, you can go.”

Jason rolls his eyes with an annoyed expression. He looks over at the little boy laying on the ground with a spilled drink and popcorn all over the floor. He looks as though he is about to cry. Jason’s expression changes to genuine empathy. He walks over to the boy and holds his hand out to help him up.

“Hey buddy, are you ok?”

The boy sniffles a little and takes Jason’s hand. “My mom let me carry the popcorn and drinks, but I couldn’t hold them all, and now it’s all on the floor.” The boy’s face scrunches up as his eyes fill with tears.

“Hey hey, it’s ok. Let’s get you some new popcorn and drinks ok? And I’ll help you carry them to your seats so you don’t drop them again. How does that sound?”

The boy drags his arm across his face, covering it with snot. He says nothing at first but gives a nod. Jason takes the boy by the hand, making sure it isn’t the one covered in snot, and guides him to the concession stand. They get more popcorn and drinks, and Jason takes the boy’s ticket and walks him to his seat where he finds the boy’s mother. She sees her son covered in pop and snot and looks at him sweetly.

“Oh no, what happened?”

“I dropped all the popcorn and drinks, but this nice man helped me up and gave me some more because I dropped it all.”

The mother picks her son up and holds him on her lap. She turns to Jason and mouths thank you while cleaning up the little boy’s shirt with a napkin. Jason mouths back, ‘no problem, enjoy the movie.’ Jason goes back to the lobby and cleans up the mess, clocks out, and goes home.

Jason gets to his apartment almost an hour late. He gets home, showers, changes, and flops onto a messy bed. He checks his phone and scrolls through some contacts that he hasn’t texted in a long time. His thumb stops on Hailey O’hara’s contact. Her name has a red heart next to it. Jason and Hailey were childhood friends that were inseparable when they were younger but that changed when they got to college. Jason had texted her a few times but she would always flake out on their plans. Eventually Jason just stopped texting her. The last time they had spoken was nearly a year ago. Jason hovers his finger over the delete contact button, but elects to turn his phone off instead and goes to bed.

[diazrayshell]

ENGLISH INTEGRATED CLASSROOM PROJECT

What is a story?

A story is the depiction of a journey that is intended to entertain, educate, inspire, or intrigue. It follows the characters as they traverse different situations or pursue a goal. It is a fictional or factual narrative containing a plot that can be presented in multiple forms.

What is a tale?

A tale is a narrative or story that often contains magical or supernatural elements and is full of creative embellishments. You can read a tale from a book or tell a bedtime tale to the kids you're babysitting. Some tales are meant to teach specific lessons, while others simply relay a funny story.

What is science fiction?

Science fiction is a genre that depicts imaginative futures, alternative worlds, and futuristic science and technology. It often explores how humanity interacts with these imagined realities. It allows writers to envision new societies, inventions, and ways of living. The genre opens up limitless possibilities for the imagination. That's why it is so fascinating; science fiction's creativity and innovation make it such an engaging genre for many readers.

Science fiction story

A Slide Through Time

"We're running out of water, Ari,"

“This is a serious problem; we have to solve it." My cat told me exasperated.  

It is the year 2041, and droughts have ravaged the land. As a result, people were dying, their hopes evaporating with every drop that remained. Previously, I had tried to warn the authorities about the water crisis for years, but they ignored me.

"That's it!" I shouted. "We're going to build a time machine! We'll go back to 2020 when humanity might still be saved.”

“Additionally, we’ll have to warn everyone before it's too late." Ari said eagerly.

After many sleepless nights trying to work out the mechanism, we built the world's first water slide time machine using alchemy. "It's ready, Ari!" I said triumphantly. We set off on our journey together and whooshed through time and space, back to the year 2020 in the metropolis of New York.

We showed up just as the epidemic was gaining steam, experiencing a deja vu. Afterward, I called a press conference and proclaimed, "I have the cure for COVID-19!" Cameras flashed as I held up a vial of green liquid. "Moreover, I've come from the future with a dire warning. If you don't start conserving water now, humanity will perish in 20 years!"

The reporters murmured in disbelief as I spoke of the dire consequences of water scarcity in 2041. Certainly, I showed them images of the arid wasteland our world had become. In addition, I laid out a clear plan for reducing water usage through a robot that captures and recycles rainwater, an idea that could change the course of history. I was now considered a scientific genius; thus, my message spread rapidly. Consequently, within months, water conservation became a top global priority.

With my mission in the past complete, we returned to 2041. As I emerged from the water slide, the landscape outside had transformed. Greenery stretched as far as the eye could see, and the sound of flowing water was music to my ears.

"We did it, Ray!" Ari cheered. 

“Together, we changed the course of history. Water is no longer a scarce resource, and humanity thrives once more; this is true serendipity.” I said enthusiastically.

All in all, we had proven that even when we are lost in the darkness, we can reach the light with a little creativity and a lot of determination in order to save the world.

Picture

This picture describes the process of the construction of the time machine in my story. I created this image through the use of AI in the hotpot.ai webpage, I simply described the story in a summary and this was the output.

References

Sterling, B. (1998, July 20). Science fiction | Definition, Characteristics, Books, Movies, Authors, Examples, & Facts. Encyclopedia Britannica. https://www.britannica.com/art/science-fiction

Tale - Definition, Meaning & Synonyms. (n.d.). In Vocabulary.com. https://www.vocabulary.com/dictionary/tale

Travis, M. W., & Staff, T. (2011). What is a story, and where does it come from? TheWrap. https://www.thewrap.com/what-story-and-where-does-it-come-32636/

Hotpot.ai. (n.d.). AI Art Generator - AI Image Generator API. https://hotpot.ai/art-generator

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